


If You Can't Beat 'Em

by Jeiidaan, rynoa29



Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Phantom Thief AU, Renzou is a flashy jewelry and art thief, Sexual Tension, Yukio decides he's getting nowhere, Yukio ends up having fun, Yukio is the police detective assigned to his case, along with back and forth banter, and unnecessary show offiness, cheesiness ahead, plenty of that too, so Yukio becomes a phantom thief to try and get closer to catching Renzou, we here romanticizing thievery babyyyy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:22:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 35,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29044551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeiidaan/pseuds/Jeiidaan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rynoa29/pseuds/rynoa29
Summary: The city of Tokyo had more than easily been brought to its knees by the flashy phantom thief, Yamantaka. He ran circles effortlessly around the police, infuriating the detective assigned to his case and charming the public masses. Yukio, in a desperate attempt to get closer to an arrest, decides to work outside of the law and become a phantom thief himself, but the detective soon learns why the thief he's had his sights on always looks like he's having fun.
Relationships: Okumura Yukio/Shima Renzou
Comments: 44
Kudos: 33





	1. Catch Me If You Can

**Author's Note:**

> WE CAN HAVE A LITTLE A PHANTOM THIEF AU... AS A TREAT...
> 
> This one isn't going to run on a schedule as our other ones do. This one is purely for fun. We decided to jump right to the part of the story we wanted to write and skip the build up. Maybe we'll write some prequel chapters some day. 
> 
> That being said, we have a couple more chapters on the way whenever we get to them. ♥ Please enjoy!
> 
> As a footnote to avoid confusion, Yamantaka, in this AU, exists only as Renzou's thief alias. There are no demons in this universe.

_Wherever you are, father. Please forgive me._

This was the thought that took the forefront of Yukio’s mind as he dangled, upside down in the dark ceiling corner of the foyer. The newest target had been marked by Yamantaka, the phantom thief that had the entirety of Tokyo on its knees. And now, he was staring at it. He knew exactly what the police were planning to do, after all, he’d come up with the idea. 

At the last moment, he’d faked sick, knowing in a second that his coworkers would send him home. After putting up enough of a fight, Yukio relented before driving several blocks away and enacted his plan. 

The outfit he’d chosen had been made over several weeks, painstakingly crafted to suit his perfectionist tendencies. Now, it was finally time for the apprehension to come to fruition. This was the exact moment.

The lights turned off and Yukio clicked the clip attached to his harness. He’d have mere seconds before the police members in the room turned on their night vision. 

Yamantaka, given his dark outfit, preferred the darkness to do his stealing. Yet, somehow, no matter how much they lit up the target, he always managed to get his hands on it one way or another. This time, Yukio told them to turn the lights off on purpose. Hiding with night vision goggles would give them the opportunity to get the first step. 

Yet, when the night vision hummed on, there was a rush of outrage and panic, for the diamond bracelet was already gone. The only thing the police saw was the flap of a white cape as Yukio escaped through the skylight, the bracelet snug around his wrist. 

Now came the cherry on top. What was a phantom thief if not flashy, cocky, and disgustingly open with his identity? 

This was the part that Yukio was dreading the most. He climbed to the top of the mansion’s roof and made his way across the shingles until he arrived at the edge where the police cars were gathered. Officers were starting to flood out and the lights were turning on, sweeping the area. Yukio swallowed and picked up the spare police radio he’d stolen from one of his coworkers before leaving. 

He’d practiced this speech over and over. He knew it by heart.

Yukio put his arm out as the light finally hit him. Unlike Yamantaka, his white outfit was bright, reflecting the light easily. The white suit was made for looks and practicality, the fabric itself lending easily to stretching for whatever physical movement he’d have to do. The pale mask on his face served that same dual purpose. The sturdy material was light and stiff, but elegant in its shape. It extended far enough along his cheeks to cover the double moles under his eye while the left side covered nearly half of his face, shielding the mole at his chin from view. The cape pinned to his shoulders, however, white with a light blue inlay and pinned with a gold brooch, was purely for flair and made him more than a flashy target. On top of that, the diamond bracelet sparkled tauntingly on his wrist. 

_“And what a turnout for my debut!”_ Yukio announced with every ounce of confidence he could muster. The police officers’ shock at the voice coming out of their radios was more than a boost. It was a rush. _“Yamantaka has had a monopoly over this place for far too long. I, Shiva, have come to give him proper balance. Come find me, Yamantaka, if you dare. I have your prize.”_

With that, Yukio tossed the police radio down into the crowd and turned with a billow of his cape, running down the rooftop and making his planned escape. 

The moon shone above him, as much of a spotlight as the real thing. Yet being so visible only had his heart racing with excitement, one he hadn't felt in so long. Its cadence only quickened further when, after he jumped down the roof, he felt a grip circle around his wrist and tug in the opposite direction of where he was running towards. Yukio was pulled into the shadows—he was embraced by them, his back pressed against a firm chest. The hand around his wrist remained in place, while another held him by the waist. 

"Well, well, well." A voice he was familiar with murmured. "I planned to catch a magnificent jewel tonight, and instead now I have two. It must be my lucky day." 

“Yamantaka…!” Yukio breathed, his eyes widening. He quickly pulled himself together and took stock of his situation. He twisted his hand slightly, testing the grip as he turned his head, meeting Yamantaka’s masked gaze with his own. 

They were like a play on opposites, pressed together like this. Yamantaka’s pure black outfit hung over him in swaths of loose cloth, making it difficult to get a sense of his body type. The hood that hung over his head, hiding his hair, was held in place by the mask. Protruding horns that curled back stuck out through the cloth and it was the only pale part of his outfit. The mask itself looked like a buffalo skull and, for the first time, Yukio was able to make out brown eyes beneath the shadows. He stifled the powerful burst of victory and willed his voice to stay even. He wasn’t out of the woods yet.

“I didn’t think you’d chase after me so quickly. I must be the lucky one.” Slowly, he shifted his stance, rooting himself more firmly to the ground.

"Why, you mustn't tease like that. With such a provocative invitation, how could I stay away for even a moment longer?" 

Yamantaka's hand slid down the length of Yukio's stomach in a slow, but very deliberate movement. His fingers circled his belt, grazing over some of the equipment Yukio had brought along with him for this heist. 

"Shiva, hmm? An ambitious mantle to take up. You've got the look down, but what about the rest?"

“And what about you? The conqueror of death. Do you think you’re immortal?” Yukio glanced towards his hand as he felt the thief’s fingers shift over the clasp of the bracelet on his wrist. “Or maybe unbeatable.” He couldn’t let the thief get more of a hold on him than he already had. Yukio’s foot shot backwards and hooked around Yamantaka’s ankle before tugging him forward. He took advantage of the moment of lost balance to twist around and press his arm against the thief’s throat. 

But Yamantaka had his grip tight around his wrist, around the bracelet. It seems he wasn’t going to let go of his prize so easily. Yukio sneered. 

“You’ll need to learn to keep your hands to yourself,” he said lowly. “Your wandering fingers aren’t appreciated.”

"I'm just taking back what is so rightfully mine," Yamantaka countered, not at all disturbed by their change of position. In fact, there was an audible grin in his voice as his fingers nimbly continued to seek after his prize. "What kind of thief would I be, anyway, if I were to mind my own business? Do you really have the right to tell me off, after sneaking into my own heist?"

“It became rightfully mine when I stole it before you did.” Yukio gave one more glance to the thief’s fingers before he decided that he wouldn’t be able to make an arrest today. But he had to, however, ensure that Shiva remained a threat. He couldn’t let Yamantaka walk away with the bracelet. All he needed now was to make him loosen his grip. Then, he could make his escape.

Yukio pushed himself into the thief’s space, slipping a knee between his legs and putting their faces close enough that the noses of their masks touched. “Don’t tell me you think there’s an honor among thieves,” he said quietly.

Finally, a reaction. Yamantaka's breath hitched, and with them pressed so closely together, the light shiver that ran through him was unmistakable. "I assure you, I am having decisively dishonorable thoughts right now."

The halt of the fingers on his wrist felt like a victory, though they still held him tightly. It was a start. He’d found a decent weak point. He just had to push. Yukio tilted his head, focusing on Yamantaka’s fingers, his breath, his goal, as he leaned just a little closer. It felt easier to do these things with a mask on. He felt a bit more daring. He could see the appeal.

“Are you?” he whispered. “I’ve been watching you for a long time, Yamantaka. My thoughts regarding you have almost always been dishonorable.”

"Wow. A diehard fan, huh?" The words were rather pointed, given that Yamantaka chose then to lean his hips forward, against the pressure between his legs. "It's our first meeting and already you have me cornered like this. I should be concerned, but... I can't say I dislike the attention." 

“Fan is certainly a word for it,” he replied vaguely. More like the police detective assigned to his case. And here he was, masked with the victim’s bracelet around his wrist.

 _And the thief under my elbow,_ Yukio reminded himself. He was doing this for a reason. It was the closest he’d ever gotten to Yamantaka. Literally. 

“Won’t you show me your face?” he teased, knowing the answer he’d be given as he pushed his knee up in response.

"Oh, but isn't the mystery part of the fun?" Yamantaka chuckled as he tilted his head appraisingly. "Maybe for our third date. If I feel you've earned it. But if you're feeling so impatient, why don't you try unmasking me yourself?" he challenged.

“And give you the chance to unmask me? I think not.” Yukio leaned in, close enough to feel Yamantaka’s breath on his lips, before giving his arm a rough twist and yank, pulling his wrist free from his distracted hold. “Third date, then,” he said before jumping back and sprinting away as fast as he could. He grabbed the bracelet, feeling how loose the clasp was and quickly clicking it closed again. He had to make his escape, then he could come up with the rest of the plan. 

Yukio suddenly found himself in a role reversal of sorts. Given how long he and Yamantaka had conversed, the police could have already set up a perimeter. Perhaps it wasn’t fully operational yet, but regardless, Yukio had to get off the ground. A quick hop and he was climbing the fire escape of a nearby apartment building, making it to the roof without breaking so much as a sweat. 

He turned, squinting in the darkness and frowned. Yamantaka was nowhere to be seen. The roofs were his territory. He figured it would be easier to dodge one man rather than a police force, but the thief hadn’t followed him.

Why? 

Had he decided to let him get away? Had he lost him? Both options seemed too unlikely to consider. His profiling of Yamantaka showed a cocky pride that wouldn’t have let him go so easily, and a skill that would have had the thief at his heels. 

So _why?_

Yukio suddenly remembered a past case. They had managed to corner Yamantaka exactly once, though he’d escaped in the end. However, not without Yukio grabbing the painting he’d stolen and ripping it from the strap on his back. Yamantaka had allowed him to feel triumphant for about half an hour before he caught Yukio driving the painting back to the police station. A thump on the roof of the car had been his only warning before the passenger side window was smashed and a black gloved hand snatched the painting right from the seat. As it was pulled up, Yukio had spotted the blinking of a little red light.

A tracker.

Yukio immediately checked his wrist. The bracelet was free of such a device, as was the inside of his sleeve. Where else had Yamantaka touched him?

His stomach tensed and he grabbed his belt, pulling it open immediately. There, on the inside, was a damn tiny little red light, stuck to the leather. Yukio sneered in victory as he pulled the tracker off his belt, but paused as he was about to throw it off the building. 

He had to play the role of the rival phantom thief if this was going to work. Yukio quickly grabbed a card from his pocket along with a small pen. He thanked himself for being over prepared as he wrote _Better luck next time_ on the paper, stuck the tracker to it, and tossed it into the alleyway below. He would leave that for Yamantaka to find. He closed up his belt, feeling the pounding of his heart picking up speed again. 

He understood Yamantaka’s cockiness. He understood why the thief always seemed to be smiling whenever he was spotted. 

This, Yukio realized with deep mortification as he jumped to the next rooftop, was fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pls pls give SilverMahogany some love & look at this gorgeous art!!! https://www.instagram.com/p/CK7VlxHnGNa/?igshid=1dkkzzf56vffu


	2. Looking At Me

Renzou was—well, _in love_ was a bit of a strong term, wasn't it? If he had to put a name to the strong feeling in his chest, it would be something more akin to infatuation. 

And how could it be anything but that? On the last heist he had planned out as his alter ego, Yamantaka, he'd met another thief, and that thief had not only escaped with Renzou's target—he'd also gone ahead and stolen Renzou's heart. A piece of it at least. That could be the only reason behind the ache in his chest which was throbbing at the thought of a second meeting, a fated reunion.

The pink-haired man fiddled with the card Shiva had left behind for him. The handwriting was neat, ordinary, but it was the only clue he had, his only connection to the mysterious thief who had gone out of his way to challenge him. 

Now, it was Renzou's turn to do the same. But what would be a proper second date?

He gave it some serious thought. These days, he was in the habit of spicing things up by sending a notice announcing his future targets straight to the police station. In the form of a riddle, of course. He couldn’t make things too easy for them, after all. That wouldn’t be any fun. They, in turn, made sure to heighten the security of the place he was planning to rob, all while keeping the matter pretty hush hush. Yamantaka’s notoriety grew with every successful heist he pulled off, and the general public ate it up as their only source of excitement. It gave Renzou a thrill every time he passed by anyone gushing about _‘how he could possibly have managed to pull it off?’_ and he knew he’d have a fun audience should he choose to entertain them. He’d been saving that sort of spectacle for a special sort of day.

Maybe it was time to finally put on a good show. 

When Renzou sent out his notice this time, he put it in the newspaper. He wanted his biggest fan to have every opportunity to attend—and if this wasn't an invitation as provocative and tempting as Shiva's own, well. He'd certainly be disappointed to tango alone.

Lady luck seemed to be on Renzou's side, however. Or perhaps it was Aphrodite herself. On the fateful, moonless night, as Renzou stood above the building which towered over a crowd that the police couldn't possibly keep away, though they tried their best, he sensed a second presence approaching him from behind.

"You came."

“I don’t know whether I should be insulted or flattered,” Shiva replied, a smirk peeking out from under his white mask. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find your calling card unless you broadcasted it?”

"Oh, I wouldn't say that was a test of your skills, but rather your commitment." Renzou glanced over at the other thief with a sly grin, trying to downplay how delighted he really was by his presence. "I didn't think a crowd like this would intimidate you given that flashy outfit of yours—but, well, you're still a rather intriguing mystery to me, yanno. Let's get to know each other a little better. That's what dates are all about, aren't they?"

With a slight of hand, there was a red rose in Renzou's hand suddenly, and he was in Shiva's space then, tucking the flower into the other man's breast pocket with a smooth motion. 

"No tracker in it—you can check, if you'd like. But perhaps we should get started on our race instead?"

There was a slight jump in his chest as he saw those gorgeous green eyes beneath the mask widen slightly in shock at the flower. Despite his proposition, Shiva pulled open his pocket to check as he replied.

“If I had known you were bringing me a flower, maybe I would have stopped by with a bracelet for you.” Shiva’s tone was cool as he looked back at him. “I’ll just have to take the ring as well and consider gifting it to you later.”

“My, and now you’re stealing my ideas too. Aren’t you trouble.” It was possible that maybe Renzou was a little bit in love. But that didn’t mean he was going to make things easy. Quite the opposite in fact. “I suppose it’s good to be ambitious, especially for a rookie just starting out. I’d wish you good luck, except I have no plans to lose tonight. Don’t hate me too much for that~ ♥”

“A rookie I may be, but I’ll be the one leaving with the prize.” Shiva’s hand reached out and Renzou almost stopped him, but he was glad he didn’t. The finger that traced the edges of his mask felt like a promise more than a threat. “Good luck, Yamantaka. You’ll need it.” With that, Shiva pulled his hand back and turned away, walking towards the edge of the building. He watched as the thief confidently stepped off the ledge and disappeared as he fell. 

_And taking yet another piece of my heart with him. Aaah~ ♥_ Renzou tried to remind himself to get it together, but...! He was absolutely charmed! Never in his life would he have expected a potential rival like this. He'd had his fun running circles around the police, but this was new. This was different. This was fun.

And Renzou didn't want the fun to stop, so in quick, quiet footsteps, he headed off the chase after his prize, eager to see just how good this rookie was. 

He'd scoped the place out beforehand, naturally. And he'd come back again after the police had received his notice and taken the necessary precautions against him. He knew there were cops inside already, waiting for him. He knew there were traps he'd had to disable. He knew exactly what would be the easiest way to get to his target—and he was curious to know, did Shiva? 

Renzou was, in fact, more interested in watching his rival at work, so he'd gone ahead and stolen the ring ahead of time, leaving a fake in its place. It was an underhanded move, hardly what anyone would call fair—but Shiva had said it himself last time, hadn't he? There was no such thing as honor among thieves. And Renzou didn't think it would be any fun to compete against someone who may not even match up to his skillset. So he'd set up this second date with that dual intention in mind. To test his rival's capabilities, with the high hopes that he had met his match, and also, more importantly, to show him up. He hadn't forgiven him from stealing his last score, after all. 

He found his perch in the dark rafters of the tall storage warehouse. His outfit blended him perfectly in the darkness, just as he liked, and he had a good vantage point on the small clear glass box guarded by wide eyed policemen. Inside, the fake ring sat prettily, looking just as nice as the real one. And so he waited, watching as the police did, waiting for Shiva to make his move. The curious anticipation only grew as nothing happened for a while, long enough for another policeman to come and relieve the two at the box. Renzou’s eyes left the ring for a moment, looking around at his level to see if he could spot a flash of white.

When he looked back down, the box that held the ring and about five feet around it was shrouded in pale smoke. Renzou’s spine straightened and he leaned forward, looking down into the slowly growing chaos. A wire shot out from the smoke, grasping at the rafters and the policeman from before was pulled up to the ceiling. He struggled with the cable around his torso as another shut up, this one closer to an escape route.

Shiva swung and crouched on the wooden beam, unhooked the grapple, and turned to look down at the scene he left behind. The thief tossed up the ring, caught it, and made his way to the window before the smoke even began to clear. 

_Not bad. Not bad at all,_ Renzou thought, smiling wide. He was beginning to see the appeal of a white outfit, with tricks like that. He spared a brief moment to snicker at the poor policeman, but wasted no more time than that and followed after Shiva, blending into the shadows as he often did, moving quickly so as to not lose him. 

Like last time, Renzou felt an unfamiliar thrill as he chased him, and it only rose further when he once again successfully managed to get his hand around the other thief’s wrist, halting him from his escape. 

“Gotcha,” he purred. 

Shiva turned with wide eyes before they narrowed and the fist of his other hand loosened. The captured one stayed clenched. 

“You’ve lost again,” he said, the hint of a smirk appearing on his lips. “Have you come to try and take it from me after I’ve done the work for you?”

“Thanks for that actually. I could get used to letting others do the hard work.” Renzou closed the space between them, keeping his grip on the thief’s wrist, while placing his other hand on Shiva’s hip. There were no walls to press each other against this time, which was a pity, but it did give them plenty of space to play out this teasing dance. “I have to say, I’m impressed. Been doing this long?”

“It’s not my first time,” Shiva replied vaguely, not really answering the question at all. Renzou knew that much. Still, his smile twitched wider as Shiva’s hand moved to his shoulder, joining in the mockery of the position they’d assumed. “And what about you? Is Tokyo your first?”

"It could be." Renzou's hand slid up from Shiva's wrist, to the crook where his hand was clenched into a fist. His thumb prodded at it, caressing the gloved skin. It didn't budge. "Shouldn't you know? How long have you been studying me, hmm?"

“Since the Emerald Eye.” Shiva responded easily. “Though I think I really took an interest in you after you stole The Maiden painting.”

"Wow, you have been watching me long. I'm flattered." The Emerald Eye had been one of the very first heists that he had announced, and it wasn't as known to the public. "Ah, and The Maiden... That was a fun day," he said with a light snicker. The memory of the incredulous and outraged expression of shock of the police detective he'd stolen the painting from was one he hadn't forgotten. “It’s pretty entertaining, running circles around the police, isn’t it? But I have to say, you’re a much more enticing challenge for me. I do hope to keep seeing you around~”

“That’s the point, isn’t it?” Shiva tilted his head and twisted his wrist slightly from under Renzou’s grip. “As I said before, you’ve had a run of this city for far too long. The least I can do is pull the rug out from under your feet, throw you off your game.” Renzou watched those green eyes travel down, tracing the shape of his mask with a deep hunger. “And besides, you promised me a special something for our third date.”

“If you deserve it.” Just because Renzou’s heart was racing didn’t mean those parameters had been met. He leaned closer to whisper into his rival’s ear. “So I’ll leave our next meeting in your hands. Plan something good for us, yeah? For now, I’ll retreat with my prize.” And because he wanted there to be no room for leaving his interest uncertain, Renzou grazed his lips against the rim of Shiva’s ear. The distracted shiver that took hold of the other man was all the time Renzou needed to pull back. He felt Shiva hesitate, taking in his words, his touch, the confusion of still having the stolen fake ring in his hand, and the split-second instinct urging to hold on to him. But by the time he came to a decision, Renzou was already on the other side of the roof, waving at him, the real ring sitting prettily on his finger. He faced the crowds then and gathered their attention.

"Wow, you all came just for me? I wish I had more time to spare for you all, but I've really gotta run~" His jovial voice was amplified by the small microphone he'd brought along with him. As he drew everyone's eyes towards him, as he felt Shiva dash after him, Renzou gave an elaborate bow, and just as quickly, he was pointing a grappling gun in the direction of an adjacent building and letting the momentum take him away. "Bye bye, everyone~ ♥"

"Yamantaka!"

A glance behind him showed Shiva in all his white splendor at the edge of the roof where Renzou had just been standing. Despite not being able to see his face, Renzou could see the other's outrage in his posture. The sight of that familiar reaction in an adversary of his had Renzou grinning with delight.

 _Better luck next time,_ he thought, with no mockery at all, just a smug victory, and his laughter disappeared along with him as he melded back into the comfort of the shadows.


	3. A Little Bit Dangerous

“That snake!” Yukio hissed under his breath. He was in his office filling out paperwork, but his mind kept returning to the night before. Just in case, he had placed the fake ring in the safe he had hidden under the floor of his closet at home right beside the bracelet, but under proper light, even he could tell the difference. 

And the worst part? He had been _excited_ about the heist. It wasn’t that he hated his job, it was just routine at this point, getting thoroughly trounced over and over again. It was exhausting. The night when he had managed to spirit away Yamantaka’s target had given him such a rush that he was thrilled to plan the next one. However, his excitement of success had been perfectly stomped on as Yamantaka sought to remind him where he stood.

He had fumed about it that night, pacing in his apartment and cursing Yamantaka’s existence. He had gotten cocky. That damn mask, the outfit, and Shiva. It had given him a false sense of superiority and he’d gotten caught up in it like a fool. And in the end, Yamantaka had taken advantage of that and defeated him as he always did. 

Yukio snarled, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was still angry. Angry at Yamantaka for taking the ring, angry at himself for being so upset about it, and angry at his damn coworker knocking at his office door.

“Come in,” he groused as he adjusted his glasses.

The man who opened his door was someone who wasn’t unfamiliar to him, but given that he didn’t usually work in his division, it was a slight shock to see him there. 

“Okumura, glad I caught you.” Ryuuji stepped into the office, shutting the door behind him. “The boys finished the profiling report on Shiva.”

“On—oh. Yes, sorry. Go ahead, Suguro.” Yukio willed his heart to calm as he leaned back in his chair.

Ryuuji didn’t seem to notice. He opened the file in his hand. 

“So, as you know, Shiva is the copycat thief that’s started to show up to Yamantaka’s heists. The first one was the diamond bracelet belonging to Yugiri-san, the owner of Runa Mall. Given how quickly Yamantaka planned the next heist and how his calling card changed, it’s safe to say that Shiva managed to make away with the bracelet and Yamantaka failed in intercepting him.”

 _Not quite true._ Yukio still remembered the way Yamantaka had pulled him into the shadows with the glimmer of interest in his eyes that he still hadn’t been able to forget. 

“Last night the Ruby Drop was targeted,” Ryuuji continued. “We were able to see a bit more of Shiva’s personality, given the way the night ended. The profiling concluded that Shiva most likely hates Yamantaka so this may be a rivalry situation more than one born from admiration. Shiva also has a strong sense of personal justice which is leading him into this vigilantism. He’s emotionally unstable, most likely prone to impulsive emotional outbursts, and is driven by his fixation.”

Yukio’s jaw tensed, his fingers tightening on the arm of his chair. “That’s all?” 

“Yeah.” Ryuuji mercifully closed the folder and placed it on his desk. Yukio grabbed it to look at the report himself. A picture of him—of Shiva—was pinned to the top of the page. “I’m worried.”

“Worried?” Yukio looked up to see the man’s serious frown. 

“He just seems like such a wild card,” Ryuuji said with a shake of his head. “Yamantaka is predictable, at least. He’s doing this because he thinks it’s fun and he’s stealing objects of value, but objects. He doesn’t show any desire to escalate. He likes this. He likes the attention, the audience, the show, and our frustration. He has no reason to take it a step further. But Shiva?”

Yukio narrowed his eyes. “You think Shiva is emotional enough to do something drastic to get the results he wants.”

“Exactly.” Ryuuji nodded. “Or given his hatred for Yamantaka, he might do something unspeakable and attempt to frame him for it, just to see him take a fall, or maybe just to take away his audience.”

“Do you really think someone so intent on justice would do something like that?” Yukio frowned, unable to stop himself from feeling a little targeted.

“Vigilantes are dangerous,” Ryuuji said with a furrowed brow. “Anyone who takes justice out of the law’s hands and into their own is. Whoever Shiva is, he thinks he can do a better job than us which means he’s going to stop at nothing to prove that.” He paused. “I want to prioritize Shiva’s capture. I think he’s more dangerous to leave out on the streets than Yamantaka is.”

“... That seems like a logical train of thought,” Yukio muttered, tapping his fingers on the file. “Well, let’s see how this pans out and do what we can to prevent any sort of escalation.” He waved his hand and Ryuuji nodded, staring at him for one more moment before he left the office.

Yukio sighed heavily and took off his glasses. He slid his fingers over the bridge of his nose, then to his temples. 

_What have I gotten myself into?_

Silence hung above his head like a heavy weight. He should have never done this. He had gotten closer to Yamantaka, but dirtied his hands in the process. He got impatient. If he had just kept going the normal way, the right way, Yukio would have gotten his hands on him eventually. 

He made the decision then that he would not bring Shiva out again. He would follow through with his plan of anonymously returning the bracelet in a couple months and he would keep the fake ring, maybe as a reminder to keep on the straight and narrow. Then it would go back to how it used to be. Yukio would win. He just had to be patient.

With his newfound determination, Yukio continued his work, secure in the fact that Shiva would no longer be a problem.

The day passed as normally as it could and Yukio was content to think only of what he would buy for dinner that evening. 

That was, until his eye caught an advertisement in the train station.

A new exhibit was currently displayed in the Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum. Several Hellenistic art pieces were making the rounds to different museums before finding their home in Italy and in the center of it all was a golden tiara. It was adorned elegantly with golden leaves, mocking the ivy they were certainly meant to take after.

Yukio stared at the advertisement, at the picture of the tiara, and an eager hunger began to roil in his belly that had nothing to do with food. A high profile target like that was bound to have high security. So far, he had had fun manipulating the situation to his advantage, in stealing the target and slipping his way into little crevices of opportunity. It was a rush, and this?

This was _tantalizing._

 _One more,_ a little voice in Yukio’s head pleaded. He clenched his fists. _Just one more and then it’s done. You might get to see Yamantaka’s face…!_

_“Plan something good for us, yeah?”_

Yukio gritted his teeth and walked onto the train as the doors opened. He pulled out his phone and looked up the hours of operation to the museum.

He had to check out the security.

* * *

“A little gutsy, don’t ya think?”

Yukio didn’t turn his head immediately but the presence beside him bade him to check. He found a man looking at him, smiling expectantly. His pink hair was not as garish as one would think pink hair should be, but it did command a certain kind of attention. Yukio turned his gaze back towards the exhibit. 

“I’m sorry?” he asked.

“Just, yanno, this whole art display thing. Ain’t it a little gutsy with the whole thief situation we got goin’ on?” The man seemed more than happy to elaborate. 

“I suppose so,” Yukio responded, tucking his hands into his pockets. There was something irritating about this stranger talking to him about his work, but another couldn’t help but prod. He naturally sought more information wherever he could. It was just how he operated. “Do you think the thieves might target something so high profile?”

"I wouldn't doubt it. I mean, this stuff's worth thousands! And who wouldn't want a piece like that hangin' on their wall?" The man pointed to one of the paintings on display, looking at it admiringly. “I dunno about the new guy, but that Yamantaka’s never been one to back down from a challenge.”

“Hm.” Yukio frowned. “You sound as though you like him. Yamantaka, I mean.” This time he looked at the man as he awaited his response.

“Heh. Do I?” The man scratched the side of his cheek with a sheepish grin. “It’s all a bit exciting, I guess. But that’s life in Tokyo for ya.”

Yukio pursed his lips. “So it’s all just entertainment,” he murmured. “I suppose that’s how he acts too. Like an entertainer.” He frowned for a few moments, hesitation catching his throat before he decided, why not. “What about Shiva? The new one.”

“What about him?” 

Yukio did his best not to frown. “Well, you have an opinion on Yamantaka. I’m curious about what people think of Shiva. There’s not much about him on the internet yet.” 

“People, huh? You a reporter?” Without waiting for a response, the man continued with an enthused smile. “I don’t know. The police seem flustered about havin’ to deal with another thief, and given that he’s escaped their grasp twice, he’s gotta have some skill, right? He seems cool, from the little that we’ve seen of him. I hope he sticks around.” Belatedly, as if he just realized what he had admitted out loud, the man winced and looked around them. The fact that there was no one else near them seemed to appease him. 

“Haha… Well, I do of course hope the police can catch them both, one day!” he added with a sheepish smile. “It’d be a pity if they were to just disappear instead!”

Yukio felt his lips twitching out into a smirk as he tried not to notice the warm feeling in his chest. Ah, this was bad. “Right,” he replied, rubbing his chin in an effort to hide his expression. “Me too, of course. But thank you for your opinion. I think I have a good angle on my next article.” He had to focus, that was what he had to do. He gave the man a brief bow before turning away from him.

He was able to get a decent amount of intel from the visit. The direction of the cameras and how many there were, the location of the various security rooms, and the tracks of moving partitions that they would use to close up exhibits for the night. All he needed to do was track down the floor plans for the museum and once he had a decent plan ready to go, he’d send the calling card.

After that, it was all about making adjustments in response to police plans, which he would have a front row seat for. 

The only thing left… was what his calling card should say.


	4. I Do Adore

“One custard bun, two chocolate croissants, the green tea mousse, and a chocolate strawberry bubble tea, please. And a latte, too! Extra milk, right, Koneko-san?”

The cafe Renzou and his childhood friend were in was one they frequented often enough. The food was incredible, to the point of being so popular that it always attracted a large crowd. It was a little hard to get a table without waiting a while, typically, but Renzou always seemed to know when was the best time to arrive so that the one at the very corner of the room was available to them. It was that, or he was bribing the servers. 

Konekomaru had his suspicions, but he mostly kept them to himself.

“Yes, please!” the shorter man responded. “Um, the cat one, if possible!” He pointed at the picture of the latte art which was readily accepted by the worker taking their order. After she left and they settled in their seats, he sighed. “I’m always nervous about asking for too much in these places. They’re so busy.” 

"It's the price that comes with popularity! And come on, the servers here love you! Though, today's is definitely new, right? It ain't easy to forget a cute face like that." Renzou eyed the friendly brunette girl who had taken their order with a mischievous smile. "She seemed to especially like you~ Should I slip your number into her pocket?" 

“Shima-san, don’t you dare,” Konekomaru replied sternly, though the flush in his cheeks showed he was as interested as Renzou assumed. “She’s working!”

“And when she finds your number, she won’t be! Ball’s on her court then, yanno. The worst she can do is say no, right?” 

“ _I’m_ saying no!” Konekomaru shook his head with a huff. “Please let’s just have a nice lunch without any of your shenanigans.”

“You like my shenanigans,” Renzou pointed out with a smirk. “Look, here, when she comes back later, give this back to her. I bet she’ll give you the cutest, most embarrassed smile when you do. You can thank me later.” 

The pink-haired man slid a small card across the table and when he pulled his hand away, it became obvious what it was. Their server’s ID. 

“Shima-san!” Konekomaru quickly took the ID as he hissed under his breath, not wanting to make a scene. “You can’t be doing this! What if you get caught?”

“Caught doing what?” Renzou said innocently. “All I did was pick up her ID like any good samaritan.”

“ _Please_ be a little more mindful,” Konekomaru insisted, though the rest of his protest fell on deaf ears as Renzou’s attention was suddenly snatched by the TV attached to the corner of the cafe’s ceiling. 

_“—from Shiva himself,”_ the news anchor stated in what Renzou recognized as carefully guarded excitement. _“These thieves are getting a lot more bold, aren’t they?”_

 _“It definitely feels like this is all leading up to something!”_ the co-anchor responded with just as much interest before she faced the camera. _“So as promised, this is what the calling card said. As a reminder to our viewers, it was dropped off late last night right here at our very station!”_ She cleared her throat before reading off a paper. It clearly wasn’t the card itself. Probably a copy of it.

_“Dear citizens of Tokyo and my dearest rival, I, Shiva, have decided to take my first mark. I refuse to stand under Yamantaka’s shadow and, thus, will claim my spotlight. The mark I have chosen is one of golden reputation. Before it makes its way back to Italy, I will be snatching this crown for my own. The police will have seven days from the time this letter is first read on air. Give me a challenge and I will make sure to give you a show.”_

The co-anchor let out an excited breath. _“What a message! And to think, Shiva chose us to deliver his first calling card!”_

The anchor nodded in emphatic agreement. _“What do you think, viewers? Tag us in social media and tell us your thoughts. What do you think Shiva’s mark is? Do you think Yamantaka will show up as well? Later today we’ll be having a special on these two thieves where we’ll be taking audience opinions on which thief is more popular! The hashtag we’ll be using is—”_

“Isn’t this bad?” Konekomaru turned away from the TV, only to see Renzou still glued to the screen. He had a delighted grin on his face, one that lit up his entire expression. “Oh no,” he muttered. “Shima-san, you can’t be serious.”

“Did you hear that? He said his _dearest_ rival.” Renzou turned to look at Konekomaru. “Dearest!” he said again, excitedly.

“Isn’t he his _only_ rival?” Konekomaru pointed out. “Wouldn’t that mean he’d be dearest by default?”

“He could’ve said anything else.” Renzou shook his head, his grin not abating in the slightest. “He could’ve just said rival, or nemesis. He could’ve called Yamantaka his most loathsome opponent—but he chose _dearest_ ,” he said, shamelessly besotted. He took another peek at the TV screen, but the broadcast regarding the calling card was coming to an end, so he took out his phone instead to check in on what everyone was saying and speculating, all while wondering if Shiva was doing exactly the same right at that moment. 

Konekomaru sighed heavily and rubbed his face. “Isn’t this bad?” he repeated, his tone more firm. “Especially if Yamantaka has some sort of crush on him.” He gave Renzou an accusing look, which went completely ignored.

“What’re you worryin’ about so much?” Renzou scrolled through his social media accounts, skimming quickly through one before hopping on to the next app. Everyone was excitedly working together to decode the note, some of them directly tagging the police department’s official account with their answers and pictures of what they thought was the mark Shiva was after. Others were simply betting on who would come out on top this time—Shiva, Yamantaka, or the police. Renzou couldn’t help but to preen upon seeing that he was winning the poll, but he was hardly displeased to see Shiva’s popularity climbing. 

And then, a particular hashtag caught his eye. He tapped on it and understood at once why #blackice was trending. His heart skipped a beat. Several beats. 

“You see!” he hissed excitedly, showing Konekomaru his phone. “The message was loud and clear and I’m not the only one who thinks so!”

Konekomaru took the phone and squinted at the screen. “I can’t believe it, I knew I was right,” he read before scrolling to the next post. “#blackice is real and no one can convince me otherwise.” He scrolled again. “Hey so when are you gonna draw those doujins again? @Thiefkinnie— _What_ is a kinnie?!” Konekomaru looked up at Renzou, clearly not feeling the same way about all this attention.

Renzou took his phone back quickly. He scrolled through that user's profile for a few seconds before typing up a quick message in reply to the post Konekomaru had last read out loud.

_[pls pls @ me if you do! do you take commissions??]_

Then he went back to his own profile and edited the details in his bio to say that he was open for commissions himself, before adding at the end, “#blackice is endgame <3 <3 <3”

“Do you think it’s a little too much, proposing to someone with a tiara? Is that more of a fifth date sort of thing?”

“Shima-san!” Konekomaru hissed. “What yo—Yamantaka is doing is already dangerous. Don’t you think a thief with these kinds of distractions is easier to catch?” He reached over and put his hand on Renzou’s phone, forcing the pink haired man’s attention back to him. “I’m worried about you,” he whispered sincerely, and at that, Renzou did come back down to earth a little.

"You really are worryin' too much," he said, his gaze softening in the way it always did whenever Konekomaru outwardly worried about him. "I'm gonna be fine, I promise. Shiva's..." Dreamy. Electric. Dangerous, but in the best of ways. "He's a challenge, one I can't afford to disappoint. If anythin', he's keepin' me even more on my toes, don't ya think?" he added quietly, allowing his voice to be drowned out by the crowd around them.

“If you’re sure…” Konekomaru frowned, the worried lines on his forehead not fading in the least despite his words. “Just please tell me this is a joke and you’re not seriously in love with him or anything. You always get so obsessed when you’ve got a crush.”

“What? I do not!” Despite his protest, Renzou’s cheeks flushed until they were a color close enough to resemble his hair. “He’s the one obsessed with me, yanno. Is it wrong for me to feel a little flattered by the attention?” 

“You just asked me if it was normal to propose with a tiara,” Konekomaru retorted with pursed lips. He paused. “Wait, a tiara? Don’t tell me you’ve already figured it out…!”

“Hmm? I mean, well yeah.” Renzou wiggled his phone out from beneath Konekomaru’s hand and pulled up the item Shiva was planning to steal on the screen before showing it to Konekomaru. “It’s gotta be this. Kinda had my eye on it already to be honest. He must have read my mind.” The besotted smile was back on his face. “We’re so in sync. Fate’s gotta be pullin’ us together don’t ya think?”

Konekomaru gave him a scolding look before he turned his attention to the screen. “Huh. Gold crown that’s heading to Italy,” he murmured thoughtfully. The Hellenistic exhibit in the Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum certainly fit the bill. “Do you think it’ll be hard? Stealing from a big museum like that?”

“Shiva gave the police a whole week’s notice. If it was tough before, it’ll be ten times as tough now. He really is lookin’ for a good challenge.” Renzou grinned. “It oughta be fun.”

“He certainly is confident,” Konekomaru mused. 

Their server returned to the table at that moment and began placing their requested food and drinks down in front of them.

“Here you go! Is there anything else?” she asked, smiling.

“Oh!” Konekomaru grabbed the ID from the corner of the table and held it out for her. “P-Paku-san? You dropped this. I saw it on the floor after you left!” Though Renzou could see the nerves in his friend at telling such a lie, he was glad it could be attributed to shyness. 

Paku’s eyes widened and she checked her pocket before quickly taking the ID. “Thank you so much for keeping this safe for me! I don’t know how it dropped. That’s so weird. Really, thank you!” The warmth in her face was infectious and Konekomaru matched it with a smile of his own. 

Renzou picked up his bubble tea and took a sip from the thick straw to hide his smug smirk. He stayed quiet as he observed the friendly chatter that soon ensued between the two of them, and when Paku was gone, he met Konekomaru’s eyes and raised his eyebrows suggestively. “What did I tell ya? The cutest smile, wasn’t it?”

“I hate when you’re right,” Konekomaru teased half heartedly as he picked up his phone to take a picture of his coffee. “But really, you’re gonna be okay, right?” 

“Have a little more confidence in me every once in a while!” Renzou picked up his custard bun and ate half of it in one bite, letting out a happy hum of satisfaction when he did. A little bit of the thick cream clung to the corner of his lips and he wiped it away with a cheerful swipe of his tongue. “I’ll be careful. I always am. I might even pick up a couple of extra things while I’m at it. Any requests?” he asked with a cheeky wink.

“Not a one,” Konekomaru replied sternly, but it was with an amused smile. “My only request would be to keep your sticky fingers to yourself and we all know how that’s gonna go.”

Renzou couldn’t deny it, so instead, he finished his custard bun with gusto and went for the chocolate croissant next. “Seriously though. How soon is too soon when it comes to proposals? Do you think if I…?”

Konekomaru spent the rest of their lunch discouraging Renzou from his half-baked plans, but by the end of it, he wasn’t sure just how successful he was. 

Renzou paid for them as he always did when they went out for lunch. They waved goodbye to the cafe’s owner who poked his head out to greet them.

“Tell Ryuuji if he doesn’t eat lunch, I’ll make him!” Rin called jovially. 

Renzou let out a burst of laughter as Konekomaru endeavored to keep his laugh more polite. “We’ll tell him,” the shorter man assured him before Rin disappeared back into the kitchen. 

“Oh, excuse me!” 

Another voice stopped them yet again as they stepped through the exit. Konekomaru turned and blinked at the sight of their server, reaching out and offering a small piece of paper. 

“Have a good day!” Paku beamed before she hurried back into the cafe.

Konekomaru looked down at the blank receipt. The only thing written on it was a phone number. He blinked once, then twice, before Renzou’s arm being tossed around his shoulder broke him out of his stupor. 

“Nice, Koneko-san! A lady killer as always~♥”

Konekomaru gave him a harried look as he nudged against his side and quickly pocketed the receipt into his wallet, not wanting to lose it. 

“Oh, shut up,” Konekomaru replied with all the fondness he could muster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a sort of clarification! Koneko knows Renzou is Yamantaka, but he's refused to take sides on the matter. He won't tell Ryuuji about it, but he won't help Renzou with his thievery. 
> 
> See you next chapter~♥


	5. El Tango De Roxanne

“Okumura, don’t worry, we can handle it from here,” Ryuuji insisted.

Yukio put on a slight scowl. Purposefully, he had not dictated what _time_ Shiva would be there, a clear difference between his calling card and Yamantaka’s. So while they had more days to plan, the window of time was a mystery. As such, Yukio was secretly overjoyed when his coworkers noticed that before he did. At worst, he would have suggested the idea himself, but when it didn’t come from him, it was just an extra layer of defense, an extra cushion against his paranoia. 

And so, exactly as he had hoped, Yukio took the day shift for guarding the exhibit and, exactly as he had hoped, Ryuuji was there urging him not to take the night shift as well. Honestly, that aspect was the most difficult part of all of this. Being sure to keep up appearances so his absences weren’t suspicious were at his top priority and that relied on other people reacting the way he wanted them to react. 

It was the most he’d ever trusted anybody. 

“Fine…” Yukio grumbled after his usual amount of protest. “But if _anything_ happens, call me.”

“No can do, Okumura,” Ryuuji gave him a wry smile. “Rin will bite my head off if I keep calling you when you’re not working.”

“Ugh.” Yukio rolled his eyes. _Thank you, Nii-san._ “At least call me if there’s an emergency.”

“That, I can do.”

They had a brief talk as Yukio further filled Ryuuji in on what happened that day and how it was completely uneventful. He pointed out a few things he noticed as well, possible entry points that he wasn’t going to use, but would serve the purpose of spreading the night shift thin.

And maybe it’d trip up Yamantaka as well.

Finally, after making sure everything was being taken care of, Ryuuji ushered him out of the museum and into his car. It was a short drive to his apartment from there and he was sure to greet his landlady on his way up. Then, once in his apartment, he quickly changed, made sure his neighbors were not on their balconies, and headed out, taking the rooftops to make his way back to the museum. 

And as he expected, Yamantaka was perched on the building beside the museum. Yukio dropped from the fire escape on the neighboring building, landing beside him. His cape caught slightly in the wind as he stood over the dark thief.

“I’m glad you came,” he said, meeting Yamantaka’s gaze as he looked up at him.

“Why, _dearest_ , I wouldn’t miss this for the world~” 

Yamantaka had a cocky grin on his face. No, it wasn't cocky, per se. There was a visible warmth to it. It was playful, too. He gave Yukio a very gentleman-like bow, bending at the waist to greet him before straightening up. 

“I counted down the days to this moment, you know. Feels like it’s been far too long since our last meeting.”

Yukio almost agreed. However, he turned his head away to look at the museum. “I didn’t bring a gift for you, as I had promised. After all, you embarrassed me last time.” He allowed his still simmering annoyance to dip into the tone of his voice.

“Aww, don’t tell me you’re still mad? It was just a little bit of friendly fun.” Yamantaka blew him a kiss from a distance. “All is fair in love and war, you know. And what kind of date would I be if I didn't give you a good challenge?”

“Hmph.” Yukio braced a hand on his hip and waved the other in the air as if shooing away a fly, a cold response to the invisible kiss Yamantaka had aimed his way. “I chose this museum precisely for that. This won’t be easy so I hope your attention will be focused on the finish line rather than me.” _And then, no matter what happens today, it’s over._ He looked at Yamantaka and walked closer. “Though in reality,” he spoke lowly. “The tiara is only secondary in this. It’s your mask I really want hanging on my wall.”

“Sounds like we should head back to your place after this,” Yamantaka said in an all-too-suggestive tone. And he was as pleased as punch to say it. “I’m game. So why don’t we get started?” 

“I’ll think about it if the mask comes off,” Yukio replied curtly. And that’s all he said before he turned and jumped to the neighboring rooftop to make his way to the museum. 

As his feet landed lightly on the roof, he looked back and found the edge where they had been talking was already empty. Despite the flirting, Yamantaka had taken the starting pistol seriously. It was time he did as well. 

He’d been working his plan over and over again for the entire week, changing and adapting it to every precaution the police took while taking Yamantaka and the fact that this was, essentially, a race into consideration. He had to be quick, exact, and accurate. The entirety of the planning stage had been exciting and he was almost sad he wasn’t going to do this again. But he did his best to decide that since this would be his last time, he would give it his all. 

Sneaking into the museum was the easiest part. On his lunch break, he’d gone and purposefully left a window unlocked. A skylight, to be exact. The lock was handled by the automatic security system. It had simply been a matter of placing a small magnet over the sensor’s detection mechanisms, tricking it into thinking it was already locked. 

It opened like the museum was welcoming him, like he was walking through the front door. It was an exhilarating feeling.

 _I’m going to miss this,_ he thought to himself before promptly squashing down the feeling. _No, you won’t,_ he scolded himself firmly. He slipped into the skylight and shut it carefully behind him, being sure not to jostle the magnet out of place. He crouched on the dark rafter above the neighboring exhibit and took his cape, quickly tying the end to his wrist. From there, his plan was simple. He knew when the guard shift would happen and, at the press of a button, a small, harmless explosive would blow, causing nothing but noise and light, a distraction, in the outside alleyway. Ideally, the police would move and leave the tiara with barely a skeleton crew and then all he’d have to deal with was Yamantaka. 

Yukio took a deep breath and, without wasting another moment, pressed the button in his pocket. As soon as he did, he heard the bang. He closed his eyes and listened. From the exhibit, he could easily pick out Ryuuji’s deep voice snapping orders and splitting the team. Efficiently. 

_Well done, Suguro. Thank you._ Yukio pointed his grappling gun, a shot he’d been practicing in the dead of night in his apartment, aiming for this balcony railing from his front door. 

The hook hit its mark, getting caught at the top of the partition and wedging between the railing and the ceiling. Yukio clenched his fist in a quiet victory and gave it a short tug to be sure it was fastened firmly. He unhooked the wire, wound it under the curve of his cape and into his hand, then jumped. 

It was true that this move would most definitely cause some property damage. But, well, what was a warped ceiling rail in comparison to a stolen tiara? They could certainly afford it. The momentum of his swing did exactly as he had hoped and knocked the rolling partition loose, off the bottom rail with just enough wiggle room that he could slip in through the far edge while the remainder of the skeleton crew moved to the other side, where the partition had actually made a complaining noise at the shift of weight. He released the wire and took two smoke grenades out of his belt. He tossed one towards the entrance and the other towards the exhibit itself and, with a double bang, the room filled with pale smoke. 

Yukio sprinted without needing to see. He had memorized the layout, how much each step would take him before he had to dodge around a corner or a case. But in the pale smoke, a black form shifted and he knew Yamantaka had taken advantage of his distraction as well. Yukio picked up his pace and made it to the tiara first. He slammed his elbow into the glass as he heard the quick footsteps and shouts of policemen closing in. Without waiting a moment, Yukio reached into the shattered glass, his cape around his gloved hand to be sure he wouldn’t cut himself, and grabbed the tiara before bolting again. 

Now this was the hard part. The exit. This was the only part of the plan he hadn’t meticulously drawn out and it was because of how many variables there were from the beginning of the heist to that specific moment. Yamantaka was close, but he couldn’t see him in the smoke. He could hear police approaching, but he still had time before they got close enough to be a danger. There was one ideal escape route. 

Yukio reloaded his grappling gun and pointed upwards. The skylight above him wasn’t unlocked, but the hook’s propulsion should be enough to break through the glass. He shot and, as he thought, the glass above him shattered. Without testing it, he pressed the button and the wire rapidly retracted. As it pulled him up, the hook was quickly latched onto an edge outside. Yukio let out a breath, feeling his feet leave the ground. He was going to be fine. He’d pull himself through the skylight and run with the tiara. Then he’d meet with Yamantaka, negotiate the tiara with the removal of his mask or some kind of clue as to his identity, and he’d be off, back into his apartment for a well deserved rest. 

There was a loud bang, weightlessness, and he was falling. 

Yukio’s mind went blank for a moment as he registered the wire snapping. That was a gun.

He had forgotten that Ryuuji was a remarkably good shot. 

He landed on his back, the tiara clattering out of his hand and he saw the split second glimpse of a black gloved hand snatching it up before it could fully come to rest on the ground. Yukio growled and quickly pulled himself to his feet to lunge in the direction of Yamantaka before he felt a powerful ram into his own back. 

He was back on the ground and there was someone on top of him. His wrist was grabbed and twisted behind his back.

“Don’t resist!” Ryuuji barked as Yukio felt the cold metal of a handcuff close around one wrist. 

No, no, no, no, this was the worst outcome. The smoke was beginning to fade, one of his wrists was captured and he was doing his best to keep the other away from Ryuuji’s firm grasp as he thought of how to break the hold.

And then it got worse. Giving up on his other hand, Ryuuji’s fingers grasped at the edge of his mask. He tried to jerk away from the touch, to dislodge it. His heart was hammering so loudly that he almost didn't register the short burst of static that was soon followed by a pained cry—Ryuuji's.

His coworker's weight suddenly slumped on top of him, but only for a second. A tight grip grabbed onto the top of his arm and pulled him up to his feet, leaving Ryuuji’s limp body abandoned on the ground. 

"Come on. Let's get out of here."

Yamantaka's whisper brushed against his ear as his arm snugly wrapped around his waist. Then they were in the air. With no one else capable enough to stop them, Yamantaka took the escape route Yukio had attempted. When they landed on the roof, however, Yamantaka released him for only a moment. A small metal key was produced from his sleeve with a flick of his wrist and he unlocked the handcuff, tossing it back through the broken skylight. Then, with a surprising amount of strength, he swooped down to pick Yukio up by the back of his knees and began to run while still holding on to him. Yukio could only hold on tight, overtaken by the unexpectedness of the situation, as the other led him away from the museum, jumping from one rooftop to the next, using his grappling hook again upon coming across higher ground.

It was only when they were far away enough from the chaos they had left behind that Yamantaka finally slowed down.

"Phew... That was a close one," he said with a light laugh.

Though Yamantaka didn’t quite let go of him, a hand still loosely placed at his waist, the moment Yukio’s feet touched the ground, he felt as though reality had returned to him. His heart pounded wildly as the gravity of what had happened fell fully on his shoulders. He had almost gotten caught. He had almost gotten arrested and the mask pulled from his face. His reputation with his coworkers, his career, and everything he had would have been ripped away from him if Yamantaka hadn’t been there. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Yukio whispered, clutching lightly at his chest as he attempted to get his breathing under control. “You didn’t have to save me. You had the tiara. You could have just left me to distract them and go.”

"And what kind of gentleman would I be to leave my date behind?" Yamantaka countered. The white flash of his grin stood out in the darkness, joking and sly. "The night's hardly over yet. Don't tell me you're ready to call it quits already?"

“Of course I am!” Yukio snapped, turning to glare at Yamantaka. “You have your damn winnings! And I’m certain I don’t _deserve_ to see your face, so why would I stick around?! Why would you?! Why _did_ you?!”

“Have you considered I have my sights on a reward much greater than the pretty crown that slipped from your fingers?”

“Oh _please._ Like I’d believe for a second that this is anything more than the gentleman thief character you play.”

"Hey, just where did you get this idea that I'm being anything but absolutely serious?" Yamantaka's grip tightened on Yukio, pulling him closer until their bodies were pressed flush together. "I'm a thief to the core, so don't think that I stole you away from the police merely as a gesture of good will," he scolded.

“There it is,” Yukio sneered, glaring at him. He felt almost calmer knowing that Yamantaka didn’t save him for free. “Fine, what do you want? Money?”

"...You really have very little self-awareness, don't you?" Yamantaka stared at him before shaking his head with a chuckle. "Money's the least of my concerns, considering my career, don't you think?"

Yukio sputtered incredulously. “You thief types are greedy!” he snapped, eager to defend himself. 

"You say that as if you're not a thief yourself," Yamantaka said, amused, tilting his head to give Yukio a searching stare. "But I guess that bit is true," he admitted. "So how about it, won't you give me my reward, or do I have to go steal that too? A proper rescue like that deserves at least one dance, don't you think?"

Yukio gaped. He felt profoundly off-footed, a state which Yamantaka was constantly, and effortlessly, able to put him in. It was true, he wasn’t a thief, but the other wasn’t supposed to know that. And yet before he could make any sort of paranoid sense of it all, the last sentence finally processed in his brain. 

“Dance?!” Yukio’s eyes widened. Immediately, he moved to take a step back, though Yamantaka’s hands tightened around him. “I don’t dance—”

"You seem to move just fine, under the cover of all the smoke and shadows. Come on. I'm only asking for the one." He didn't wait for Yukio's answer in the end. Instead, Yamantaka reached for Yukio's hand and in a swift movement twirled him around. Those firm, gloved hands slid back to rest on Yukio's hips. Well, one of them did. 

"Let's have some fun together, hmm? I'm not ready to say goodbye to you yet, Shiva."

And just as Yukio's brain finished properly catching on to the words whispered in his ear, music began to fill the air. A flutter of playful keys were soon followed by a stroke of strings, a low acoustic sound that trembled in the darkness and danced across their skin. Yamantaka’s hand slipped out of his pocket and returned to his waist then, satisfied with his choice of music. With another dizzying twirl, he had Yukio facing him again, their hands joined together.

“Just do as I do. You're plenty good at that already, darling," he said teasingly.

“D-Darling…?!” Yukio felt the usual confidence he had as Shiva leave him completely as he stumbled around at Yamantaka’s whim. “You don’t get it! Running and jumping is fine, but dancing is—”

“Just as easy. Follow my lead,” Yamantaka reassured him at once.

The music itself seemed to command them as much as Yamantaka directed his movements. He held on to his shoulder and arm as the thief’s foot stepped forward, urging his back. Yukio staggered embarrassingly but Yamantaka’s patience extended beyond what Yukio was capable of, it seemed. He held him up whenever he tripped over his own feet, didn’t complain if he stepped on his toe, and as the song went on, Yukio found his breathing actually calming. 

It was easier with each step to follow the tango Yamantaka led him in. He’d never once danced it, only seen it on television, and it was harder than he ever could have anticipated, but somehow, Yamantaka was able to effortlessly teach him with nothing but the movements of their bodies flush together. 

A twitch of movement in his hips, in his hand, in his leg, directed Yukio’s body. He was able to more quickly pick up on the cues. Soon, there wasn’t a moment where they were apart. Chest to chest. Eye to eye. Yukio’s breath hitched as Yamantaka took his acclimation to the movements as permission for his hand to leave Yukio’s hip and slide down his thigh. His palm pressed tightly against his leg as it moved down, a part of the dance as much as the steps their feet followed. Then his fingers curved around until it settled behind his knee and Yamantaka pulled him against him. 

Yukio’s arm moved automatically behind his hooded head, his elbow in the way and unable to comfortably hold his shoulder. Yamantaka lifted Yukio’s leg, pressing his thigh against the side of his hip before stepping forward, dipping him back.

His chest moved with barely perceptible movements. Yukio’s body was caught between giving in to the exertion behind the strenuous dance and holding his breath with the anticipation that rushed through his veins. 

The music faded and, soon, it was just them. Their masks were close enough to touch, close enough that he could feel Yamantaka’s heated breath on his lips. 

Then he began to pull back and Yukio’s entire body was flooded with a desire to remain close. It was such a smack to the face, like a sucker punch, that he didn’t know where it had come from, didn’t know what to do with it, or how to react. So, just as with the dance, his body moved on its own.

His fingers tightened on Yamantaka’s hood and he pulled the thief back down. He tilted his head and their lips crashed together in a desperate, heated movement. 

There was a clear moment of hesitation, of shock, that followed, but Yamantaka was as quick on his feet as ever, reacting to the kiss with ravenous hunger. This time, it was their mouths that danced together, a tango that held just as much passion, perhaps even more so. As Yukio held onto Yamantaka's neck, Yamantaka picked him up again, urging his legs to wrap around his waist. 

What was he doing? Yukio wasn’t sure. His legs followed Yamantaka’s silent request and wrapped around him moments before his back hit the side of the bulkhead that led into the stairs leading off the roof. 

“We shouldn’t…” Yukio breathed against Yamantaka’s mouth before kissing him again. 

What was he _doing?_ What had come over him? The feeling of the kiss, the way Yamantaka’s body pressed close against his was addicting in the worst and best way. He felt magnetized, as if a piece of him would be gone if Yamantaka were to pull away. 

"Shiva..." Yamantaka whispered through their kiss, the sound little more than a groan. He had one hand gripped around Yukio's hair now, clearly experiencing the same ache, the same agony; he could hardly stand to keep his lips away. "Don't be so cold, darlin'." His voice came out thick, filled with a primal desire that he syphoned into Yukio as he pressed urgent kisses against his skin, hot and messy, until he was digging his teeth into his neck. 

Yukio leaned his head back, his eyes unable to focus on the stars blinded by the city lights below them. All he could register was the way Yamantaka’s voice felt as he marred and bruised his throat. His hand slipped into his hood and gripped at Yamantaka’s hair.

Short. Soft. 

“They’ll be looking for us,” he attempted to protest again, even as Yukio’s fingers dug tighter into his scalp.

Yamantaka's responding groan melted into a chuckle. "No, they won't. Not here. I had a decoy prepared, triggered to go off in the opposite direction." Somehow, as he continued to kiss every inch of available skin, he managed to push Yukio even more flush against the wall. It was as if he was trying to fuse their bodies together through that movement alone. "Your trademark cape makes for a flashy target. Good for misdirection," he complimented. The hot murmur held a healthy dose of praise, of adoration.

Yukio’s exhale broke apart into a breathy laugh. “You snake,” he whispered without a single ounce of venom. He felt an intense rush of admiration and respect for the man. And though such a rush was not unheard of, it had always been unwelcome when he felt it as a police officer. 

But now, dressed in white with a mask as a fellow thief, the rush was nothing but intoxicating. 

“Fine,” he murmured, both hands cupping Yamantaka’s cheeks as he lifted his face. He looked into his brown eyes through the holes of his mask. “Tonight is yours.”


	6. Fly Me To The Moon

Renzou felt as if he was living in a dream. 

From the moment he had parted ways with Shiva, to when he had returned to his bed and fallen asleep, something inside of him had not yet settled. He was on cloud nine and the thought of descending from it didn't even cross his mind. The world around him completely faded away and only the memories of the passionate night he had shared with the thief that had stolen his heart remained. He'd awoken that morning enthralled by feelings he could not possibly contain, so he didn't—a blank canvas found its way into his easel, and he got to work immediately, sketching out the vivid images dancing across his mind. 

But how could he give proper justice to the beauty of his dearest rival? The cool grace of his posture, the passion that possessed him when he sought to challenge him, the raw sensuality that Renzou had drawn out of him as he guided his stumbling footsteps into a magnetic dance that turned into something so much more. 

The tools on hand hardly allowed him to match the right shade of his chestnut hair, much less those expressive green eyes that had dug into him from behind the glossy white mask, but gods did he try to give it justice. 

_"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you.”_

It had been a confession Renzou had not been able to hold back last night, and it was even more true now as he remembered that exact moment—how Shiva had let out an impatient noise while Renzou tugged their clothes out of the way, how they’d gravitated back to kissing again, as if they wouldn’t be able to breathe without doing so. And later, how gorgeous Shiva had looked, hair mussed, the golden tiara the two of them had stolen settled on the crown of his head. Renzou had placed it there himself as a parting gift, just before stealing another kiss that sealed away Shiva’s responding protest.

It was that very image that Renzou was immortalizing now. He only paused his work to trace the lines he drew, this time with his fingers, remembering the sharp angle of his jaw, the warm heat of his skin. He picked up his pastels and colored in a dark bruise in the spot beneath Shiva’s ear. He’d come back to nibble on it many, many times, drawn to the sole, cute mole on that patch of skin that he had spotted. The curiosity to know whether there were more to uncover taunted him. Oh, how he longed to see the face hidden behind the mask, but the mystery allured him too. 

_I bet you’re absolutely breathtaking, even more so than you already are_ , Renzou thought, his heart filled with yearning. 

The sound of his phone ringing broke his concentration. Renzou blinked, and though his gaze lingered for a little longer on his handiwork, he parted ways from it with a love-struck smile on his face and went to seek out his phone. Upon seeing the picture of a familiar kitten wearing glasses that he had once drawn himself flashing on his screen, Renzou's expression brightened. 

"Koneko-san!" he greeted, his voice full of excitement. He was so eager to talk to someone about it all. "Aaaah, you won’t believe what happened last night!!"

 _“Shima-san…”_ Konekomaru didn’t sound as pleased to hear from him. _“Did you tase Ryuuji last night?”_

“Ah.” Renzou had forgotten about that. “That did happen, but listen! It was for a good reason! Shiva was in trouble so I swept in for the rescue, and man, am I glad I did. He was so grateful that he kissed me!!” 

_“Wait, what?”_ Konekomaru’s disappointed tone evaporated in shock. Then it quickly returned. _“You got a kiss for tasing him? Please don’t tell me this is going to become a pattern.”_

“I mean, it was Ryuuji’s fault, really! Ain’t it about time he starts thinkin’ of a new career?” This was a moot question to ask. Renzou knew very well that Ryuuji wouldn’t ever consider it, not when the choice to become a cop had stemmed from their family background in the first place. Renzou’s family, Ryuuji’s and Konekomaru’s too, all of them had grown up with the expectation that they should join the police force, or some aspect of law enforcement if not that. “He’s a sturdy guy, I’m sure he’s as right as rain already, but I’ll send him some apology flowers later.” As Yamantaka, of course. 

Konekomaru sighed audibly. _“Okay, fine,”_ he said in that resigned tone he usually had when he knew he wasn’t going to win an argument with him. It made Renzou smile just a bit bigger. _“So, tell me what happened last night. Did he really kiss you?”_

“He did!!” Renzou flopped down on his bed and stared at the ceiling, totally enamored. “It was amazing. And that’s not all we did,” he added with a sly, insinuating voice. “I can’t get him out of my head. I wanna see him again already! Hey, what kind of gesture really screams I love you? Do you think I should give him the ring from the last heist? Or maybe make up some challenge to give him the opportunity to steal it back from me? I can’t decide!”

 _“L-Love?!”_ Konekomaru responded quickly. _“Shima-san, you’ve only met him three times, barely for longer than a few hours TOTAL, and you don’t know his real name or even what he looks like! You can’t say you love him! This is what I mean about you getting totally obsessed when you have a crush. You have to tone it down. Don’t you remember the last time?”_

“That was different!” Renzou protested at once, but the reminder was harsh enough to have his smile fading momentarily. "Shiva's different," he insisted, sitting up and curling his legs in. He glanced across his apartment to stare at the drawing he had been working on, finding the sight of it, the memories of last night, reassuring. "I know I said I wouldn't pursue anyone anymore as Yamantaka, but he's got an identity to protect too! It's nothin' like Sei."

 _“Just because both of you have masks doesn’t mean this could end up any better. It could end up worse. Don’t repeat the same mistake, Shima-san. You don’t know Shiva at all. Don’t give everything to someone you don’t know.”_ Konekomaru sighed, stopping himself. _“Look. A fling, I can excuse when it comes to you, but love? As your friend, I’m begging you. Please guard your heart a little better.”_

“What does that even mean?” Renzou grumbled, picking at the bottom hem of his sweatpants. “I can’t help who I fall in love with! And it’s not like it’s a one-sided thing here. He’s interested!”

 _“I know you can’t help it but all I’m asking is that you use your head a little more instead of just following your whims.”_ Konekomaru sounded as if he was pleading with him more than anything before he sighed once again. _“Why don’t we go out to eat again today? Tomorrow I’m gonna be at the station on shift for a couple days so today we can talk about your plans. It’s not like I don’t want you to find love. I just want you to be smart.”_

There were a lot of things Renzou could say in response to that. He'd had a lifetime full of choices to look back on, but when he tallied up the list, it wasn't the smart choices that ever led him to happiness. The rigid, narrow path his family had set him on in the first place—that wasn't meant for him. 

He understood Konekomaru’s reasoning, but that wasn’t the life he wanted to live. Renzou had no intention of following anything that wasn't his own heart. 

"What time are you thinkin'?" 

_“A couple hours? We could probably skip over the lunch rush if we go at two.”_

The reminder of lunch caused Renzou's stomach to growl and he realized then that he hadn't eaten since he'd woken up. Probably best not to tell Konekomaru the reason why. "That sounds good. Rin's place again? I swear, Ryuuji doesn't make it easy to get to know the guy. Is he ever gonna take a day off? Maybe I should have tased him for a little longer."

 _“Shima-san!”_ Konekomaru scolded him immediately, predictably. _“I’m sure if we complain normally to Rin-kun, he’ll put in a word for us so no tasing needed!!”_

“You know as well as I do that the only thing that’ll keep that knucklehead from working is tying him down to his bed, so either Rin needs to up his gameplay, or I’m gonna have to sneak in and slip something into his morning coffee.”

 _“Don’t even joke about that!”_ But Konekomaru was laughing now, mostly because Renzou knew he agreed. Ryuuji’s work-life balance was terribly skewed and they had both had a private celebration when he got together with Rin. Things changed a little bit, but it seemed like nothing could dissuade Ryuuji from his workaholic tendencies. It didn’t help that the detective he worked with was just as much of an impossible case by the sounds of it. _“Let’s try complaining to Rin-kun before we do anything drastic, okay?”_

“Whatever you say, Koneko-san.” Renzou snickered. “I'll let you go for now then. Got some work to wrap up first. Don’t get distracted rescuing kittens out of trees on your way there! I might just share some embarrassing childhood stories to Paku-chan if you’re late!”

 _“Now I’m definitely getting there before you. See you there!”_ Konekomaru laughed in good humor before he hung up. 

There was a smile lingering on Renzou's face when he pulled his phone away from his ear, but it faded just a bit as he rested the device down on his lap. 

_Koneko-san, you don't get it..._ Renzou was sure that the feeling in his heart couldn't be anything bad. So what if he and Shiva had only known each other for a few hours? The connection they shared was unlike anything else. He knew Shiva felt it as much as he did. Last night had been proof of it.

The phantom sensation of Shiva dragging him down to steal a kiss from him—their first kiss!—had Renzou touching his lips, pressing into them as if by doing so, the vivid memory would remain with him a little longer. 

_I wonder what we could do for our next date?_

Renzou had some time to kill before lunch where he could start figuring that out. But first, a quick (late) breakfast, a shower, and some time catching up on his news feed was on his schedule. The curiosity of seeing what his fans were saying about him and the love of his life perked up his mood. And when he posted up a quick sketch on his social media later, one showing Yamantaka carrying Shiva around in his arms, the endless outpour of positive feedback he received had him floating on cloud nine again. 

* * *

When it came down to it, Renzou tried his best to be considerate of Konekomaru's time. As a member of the fire department, his friend had a pretty complicated work schedule—two days of consecutive work where he was basically unavailable to be bothered, followed by a period of rest where he should in fact be resting and not worrying over whatever Renzou was up to. 

He was such a worrywart at heart though, so Renzou could really only do so much to ease his (often unfounded) concerns. As a concession, they began making a routine to meet for lunch some time ago, which allowed Konekomaru to see with his own eyes that he was doing okay.

Renzou treasured their lunch dates. He had yet to miss any of the ones they had scheduled. So, when he received a short text from his friend— _change of plans, no cafe_ —without any more explanation, he became concerned and called his cell. 

"Hey, what's goin' on?"

 _“The police detective that heads Yamantaka’s case? He’s totally here!”_ Konekomaru was whispering urgently into his phone. _“And he’s talking with Rin-kun and I can’t hear what they’re saying but they’re definitely arguing about something!”_

“What?!” Immediately, a huge grin stretched across Renzou’s face and he took on a jogging pace towards the cafe. “He’s pickin’ a fight with Ryuuji’s boyfriend? Oh man, we should call him! This oughta be good. What are they sayin’!”

 _“Argh…”_ Konekomaru paused and Renzou could tell he was attempting to fulfill his request. _“It’s no use. They’re arguing but they’re not talking loudly. Shima-san, please let’s go somewhere else. What if he knows something? We can call Ryuuji while we pick a different place.”_

“And miss out on this? No way!” It was too late to turn back anyway. Renzou had already spotted them through the front window of the cafe. Konekomaru was at their usual table, all the way in the back, trying to make himself small and inconspicuous, but his hunched posture only drew more attention to him in Renzou’s opinion. Two tables over, his favorite detective was indeed arguing with Rin, who had his hands on his hips in an attempt to look intimidating, but the detective hardly seemed impressed with him.

“I’m comin’ in. Straighten up a bit, will ya? And take a deep breath.” That was Renzou said before hanging up on Konekomaru and waltzing right in with his usual smile. It widened a little more warmly when he saw Konekomaru nervously sit straight and try not to look as worried as he most certainly felt.

But then he redirected his attention, focusing on his hearing, and it was serendipitous enough that the argument rose in volume just as he crossed the threshold.

“I told you you’re making a scene,” Yukio sneered.

“I don’t care! This is my place so who cares!” Rin huffed. “If you called off, fine, but no working while you eat and you’re gonna eat a decent meal for once!”

“ _Nii-san_ , I swear to god, I’m fine eating just a normal meal!”

“And leave you hungry? You’ll be going to the convenience store after this if you eat that little!”

Oh. Oh, wasn’t this just great. They were _brothers!_ Renzou had to take his own advice and calm down lest his excitement over this discovery show up on his face. He made his way over to Konekomaru with a casual wave, but once he sat down and was sure neither Rin nor his brother were paying any attention to them, he leaned in across the table and whispered, “can you believe this!!” The grin on his face could not overstate enough how delighted he was by this turn of events.

Konekomaru was more openly shocked but he quickly schooled his expression. “Wait, if they’re brothers, how come we’ve never even seen him?! Ain’t this world a little too small?!”

“I'll take partial responsibility for giving our dear detective more than a few sleepless nights," Renzou said with a snigger. "And given how hard Rin's going at him, he might just be a worse workaholic than Ryuuji. I didn't even think that was even possible!"

“Neither did I.” Konekomaru glanced over as the argument between the two seemed to reach a peak.

“Fine!” Yukio snapped, his cheeks flushing a bit at the gathering attention. They didn’t look too out of place looking at them now that a couple other tables were beginning to glance over. “Just serve me whatever! I swear you’re such a pain!”

Rin, however, didn’t look upset in the least and beamed brightly at Yukio’s surrender. “Be right back!” he chirped as he jogged back into the kitchen.

As Rin went out of sight, Paku approached their table. Renzou didn't miss the way her smile shone a little brighter when she looked at Konekomaru. "Hi again, you two! What can I get for you today?"

"Paku-chan! Hey, hey, give us the deets. That Rin's brother over there? Things were lookin' pretty tense!"

Paku gave a discreet glance over her shoulder before leaning in close to them to whisper. "Well, it's the first time I've seen him myself, but Rin-san's always telling us about him. Doesn't have the healthiest eating habits, you know. So, the boss usually shows up at his house to cook for him, but it looks like the locks were changed recently, and he hadn't been picking up his phone either."

"Oof." Renzou scrunched up his nose, but the playful expression held a healthy dose of sympathy as well. "Sounds like Rin's just being overbearin’ to me. Can't say I'd enjoy any of my brothers showin’ up at my door, even if it was to feed me."

“I suppose so.” Konekomaru looked at Renzou. “But Rin-kun’s probably just worried. He gets like that with Ryuuji too sometimes. I think that’s just how he is.”

“You would say that.” Renzou rolled his eyes, but the jab was nothing more than lighthearted. “I stand by my point. And you, Paku-chan? What do ya think? Got any siblings?”

“Not me. But I do think it’s nice, taking care of other people. If they’re important to you, you should watch out for them, right?” 

Her good-natured smile was as radiant as the sun. Renzou would have been charmed by it on any other day, but his attention was still intently focused on the brunet sitting a few tables over. Yukio was looking at his phone, occasionally glancing up at the window that peered into the kitchen to look for Rin; by the looks of it, he was still working despite having been firmly instructed to do anything but. Renzou did not expect any less from the detective that had been assigned to handle his case. 

“I agree, Paku-san!” Konekomaru responded and Renzou didn’t need to look to hear the smile on his face. “I never thought someone like Rin had siblings but it suddenly makes sense. He definitely seems like the older brother type.”

“Right?” Paku smiled. “But they’re twins. Still, Rin-san insists he’s older.” She paused before gasping lightly. “Oh, I should be taking your order.”

“It’s fine! We asked the question!” Konekomaru reassured her quickly.

As they spoke, Renzou kept a subtle eye on Yukio until the detective quickly placed his phone face down on the desk. A second later and the door to the kitchen opened.

"Can you order me the usual, Koneko-san? I'll be right back."

Renzou was on his feet before anyone could stop him, and as Rin made his way back to his brother, balancing a few pairs of plates on his arms, Renzou did the same and slid down on the seat directly across from Yukio. 

"Hey there! We meet again!" Renzou put on his best smile and pointedly ignored the wide-eyed look of panic Konekomaru was shooting at him. He was much more interested in the reaction of the person sitting right in front of him. "Mind if I join ya for a bit?"

Yukio blinked in shock, then recognition as soon as his eyes darted up to his pink hair.

“You know him, Yukio?” Rin asked as he placed down the food, one plate at a time.

“We’ve met briefly,” he replied vaguely before focusing on Renzou. “At the museum, yes? I didn’t expect to see you again.”

"Same here! Rin, I didn't even know you had a brother!" Renzou watched, amused, as Yukio processed the fact that he was addressing Rin so familiarly, and pounced before he could make heads or tails of it. "So how'd your article turn out? There's been so much news coverage on those two thieves recently. I thought about keepin’ an eye out for ya, but we ended up not exchanging names in the end, last time we met. What publisher did ya say you worked for?"

Predictably, before Yukio could even think about lying, Rin chortled lightly. 

“Yukio’s not a journalist! He’s a detective working hard on Yamantaka’s case!” Rin beamed proudly as Yukio leveled him with an annoyed look. 

“Nii-san,” Yukio sneered. “Do I smell something burning?”

“Huh? You do?” Rin didn’t look too sure but the small chance Yukio was telling the truth had him hurrying towards the kitchen again.

With just the two of them alone, Renzou couldn’t resist leaning across his side of the table, being mindful of the mountain of plates Rin had delivered, which he gave a brief, amused glance at. “A police detective. Wow! I never would have guessed! I really had been hopin’ to get a look at that article of yours! Seemed like you had an interesting angle to pursue."

“I just asked vague questions,” Yukio muttered, picking up the rice bowl at the side. “So, what, are you a Yamantaka fanboy or something?”

"Heh. You caught me," Renzou was all too amused to say. "I like to think I'm his number one fan. Though, between the lead detective and Shiva, it looks like I've got some competition."

Yukio’s eyebrow twitched. “The police are not fans of Yamantaka, I can assure you.” He chewed a bite of rice for a moment. “I probably can’t say the same for Shiva, though.”

"Yeah?" Renzou couldn't help it. His eyes lit up every time he heard anyone say as much. "Everyone's dyin' to hear when those two are ready to upgrade their relationship status. Was hopin' to get some insider tips from ya if you had 'em. But I guess since you're police, I'm fresh out of luck, huh?" He tilted his head, and as he did, he took the time to fully observe the man before him finally.

Their last meeting was the first time he'd really seen him properly, without the cover of the night and the rush of avoiding capture getting in the way. He was as handsome as Renzou remembered, hiding a pair of gorgeous green eyes behind dark glasses. His pale skin confirmed the fact that he probably spent a lot of his time indoors, and his exposed arms revealed a trail of dark moles that made Renzou's heart skip a beat, but a glance at the clear patch of skin beneath Yukio's ear killed that unlikely theory soon in its conception. 

"What about your personal opinion then? If you don't mind?" he asked with an interested smile.

“About Shiva and Yamantaka’s… relationship status?” Yukio grimaced as he put down his bowl. “Why are you asking me? You know I’m not a reporter. A police detective surely has a biased opinion on the matter.” He frowned at Renzou. “What about you, then? Are _you_ a reporter? You seem to be asking an awful lot of questions.”

"Like I said—I'm a big fan! Of both of them really. And ever since #blackice started trending, I've been curious to know if the rumors are really true!" They were, and he was dying to confirm them. At the rate they were going, maybe they'd even move from _rivals_ to _partners_. The police were going to have a hell of a time dealing with their combined force either way, and gods was he looking forward to it.

“Wait, what?” Yukio frowned in slight confusion. “Black ice? What rumors are you talking about?”

"You don't know?!" _For shame, my dear detective_ , Renzou thought, holding back a snicker. He eagerly pulled out his phone then, all too curious to see what kind of reaction Yukio will have at the news. "I figured even the police were working that angle! People are sayin’ Yamantaka and Shiva's heists are actually some sort of courting ritual between them. The whole world is rooting for them to get together and clue us in! Look!"

He turned the screen towards him and enjoyed the morphing of Yukio’s expression into something akin to shock.

“Are you serious?” Yukio leaned forward scrolling on Renzou’s phone before pulling his hand back and rubbing the side of his neck. “I can’t believe it. Do people have no sense of self respect? What kind of joy would they get out of two masked people doing things like that?!”

"Well, they're basically celebrities! Come on, it's excitin', ain't it? Just think of the appeal of opposing rivals, intertwined in a passionate affair. It's—" Renzou had been about to recite a heartfelt ode admiring the palpable chemistry behind his romance with Shiva when he noticed it. As Yukio's hand pulled away from his neck, he left a visible smear in its wake. A mole now stood out starkly amongst a patch of red and purple skin. A mole that looked far too familiar; one that Renzou had carefully colored into his canvas just that morning. 

_No way._

Renzou's eyes darted from the dark hickey on Yukio's neck to his eyes instead. Green. He pictured Shiva's white mask on that face. His hair color almost seemed like a different shade under the warm lighting of the cafe, but he was sure, if he ruffled it a little, if they had met at night instead—

There was no doubt in his mind; there couldn't be with the evidence of their lovemaking staring back at him. This was Shiva. His biggest fan—the love of his life—was the detective who had been after him since Renzou had moved to Tokyo. 

"It's meant to be," he breathed.

He didn’t notice until Yukio broke eye contact with him that he had been staring none too subtly. The detective looked down at his fingers as he rubbed them together as if feeling something off when his eyes widened in realization. Renzou caught a glimpse of the discoloration that could only be makeup on his fingers before Yukio quickly covered the hickey with his palm.

“Excuse me,” he whispered in a rush. “I need to go to the bathroom.” He stood, bowed briefly, and hurried away.

Renzou stared at him, still trying to reconcile his own realization with real life when Konekomaru quickly crossed the cafe in Yukio’s absence and approached him.

“Are you okay?” he whispered in concern. “Did he say something?”

Renzou blinked slowly. 

"No, he didn't. But I think I need to report a crime..." He stood up as if in a trance, without even glancing at Konekomaru. That is, until his friend stopped him with a firm palm against his chest. 

"What do you mean?" Konekomaru hissed, blocking his way.

Finally, Renzou turned to face him. A grin stretched across his face, dopey and excited. "I mean, Shiva's even more breathtaking than I thought. It's practically illegal! ♥" he revealed in a hushed voice.

"What?!"

When Yukio came back out, the bruised skin under his ear freshly covered, he frowned in slight confusion as he saw the pink haired Yamantaka fanboy being dragged out the door by a shorter man. He glanced at the table they were sitting at before looking at his own. 

Well, at least he’d be able to eat in peace.

Though as soon as he sat down, his older brother returned, ready to nag at him further and bring, much to Yukio’s horror, more food.


	7. I Won't Say I'm In Love

After his encounter with Yamantaka, Yukio had hurried back to his apartment after making sure he wasn’t being followed and placed the tiara carefully in his hidden safe. Then he’d simply passed out and had no opportunity to reflect on the night’s events until the following morning. 

When he had awoken, Yukio had spent nearly an hour staring at the ceiling, playing what happened over and over in his mind. Yamantaka had quite efficiently swept him off his feet and stolen his desires for his own. The pleasant ache of his body ran deep into his bones, caused not only by the exertion of the heist itself, but the aftermath. He was helplessly wrapped up in his thoughts, his memories, before he remembered that he had to go to work. In the same instant, he knew that he couldn’t. And so, for the first time in his career, Yukio called out sick. He took a shower after that, trying to clear his mind, before he caught sight of the hickey under his ear. Merely looking at it had his face flushing. He covered it up as soon as he could and Rin called not long after, having been tipped off by Ryuuji.

He showed up at his brother's cafe only because he needed the distraction, but Yukio knew where he wanted to go as soon as it opened. It had been a while since he’d gone to The Tipsy Hydra and after last night, he could certainly use a drink. There was one downside to going there, but he’d take it.

He sighed, trying not to think too hard on what had happened. Every time he tried to make heads or tails of it, his own actions made less and less sense. Not to mention, he always just got so caught up thinking about Yamantaka that any further thought felt impossible. 

Yukio shook his head and pushed open the door to the bar, thankful more than anything for the low light. He grabbed his usual stool and sat down, waiting for the woman behind the bar to finish up with her other early customers. It didn’t take her long. After a glance in his direction, she leaned in and sweet talked her way out of her current conversation before heading his way.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my favorite four-eyed troublemaker. It’s been too long! And you’re early, too. What gives?” 

Already, she was pouring him his usual with a shit-eating grin on her face, but she didn't hand it over immediately, holding the glass hostage until he answered.

Yukio gave a glare at Shura, the downside of The Tipsy Hydra. He held out his hand and she jerked it an inch further back.

“Nothing. Why do I need a reason?” he shot back irritably.

"If you're here to tell me you came to drink for pleasure, I can tell ya now that the look on your face is giving you away. Come on, spill it. You want this drink or not?"

Yukio glanced to the side at the other patrons clearly minding their own business. “Can we talk about it in the back?” he asked quietly, knowing he wouldn’t get Shura to budge unless he did as she wanted.

"Ohoo, so it's like _that_." Shura's eyes lit up brighter than any amethyst. "Well in that case, what're you waiting for? Here. Drink up and take this with you. I'll join ya in a sec. Gonna grab the good stuff." She slid the glass forward and left him with a wink, heading straight towards the top-shelf bottles. 

“Don’t start having any preconceptions!” Yukio snapped as he took his drink and stood up off the stool. He’d been there a million times so the path to the back room was routine. He found a chair in the small office and sat down, sipping his drink sullenly as he waited for Shura to join him.

It took her a couple of minutes, which he was partly grateful for, except for the fact that the anticipation only added to his nerves. Finally, she opened the door into the office carrying two bottles. Beer for herself and one of her more expensive rums.

“So,” she said as she kicked the door behind her and took a seat right on top of her desk. “What’s got your knickers in a twist? Word on the street is that you lost that pretty tiara you had your eyes set on. Tryin’ to recover from your bruised pride?” 

“I have the tiara,” he muttered quietly over the edge of his glass.

"What?" Shura blinked bemusedly. "Seriously? Then what the hell's all this about?" She made a vague gesture in his direction with her opened beer in hand as she set down the rum on the table.

“Because I didn’t actually get to steal it.” Yukio grimaced. His cheeks pinked slightly as he remembered the weight of the tiara on his head. “Yamantaka gave it to me after… After we…” He put his glass down and pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t actually say it.

And he didn't have to. Shura always knew how to read him like an open book and she didn’t miss a beat today. "Yukio! You dog!" she crowed immediately, her loud voice carrying through the room. "Oh my god, you slept with him! Don't even try to tell me I'm wrong!" Beer forgotten, Shura scooted closer to the edge of the desk, the thick soles of her leather boots knocking against the wood. "Did you see his face!?"

“Would you quiet down?!” Yukio hissed, his face beet red. Shura just saying it like that pulled up all the memories of the previous night in a manner that just didn’t leave him alone. “No, I didn’t… We didn’t take off the masks. We didn’t even take off that many clothes! It’s not as complicated as you’re making it out to be!” 

"You're kiddin'. You're kiddin' me, right? You had him right there in your arms and you didn't take his mask off?!" Shura didn't seem to know whether to laugh or be exasperated. So she resorted to being crude. "Damn, how good was he? He really went and screwed the last of your common sense out of ya, didn't he?" she said with a snigger.

“Argh, shut up! You’re the worst! I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to come here!” Yukio snarled, glaring at her. “I know I was stupid! I don’t know what came over me, okay?! He just—! Ugh, I hate him!” He buried his face in his hands as if such an action would hide him away from the memory of Yamantaka’s voice giving him chills as it sank into his skin. “He’s so pretentious and fake and I hate him!” he insisted. He did hate him. He was supposed to hate him. He _had_ to hate him.

And yet all he could think about was how strong his arms were when he rescued him, how intense his brown eyes bore into him as they danced, how his teeth bruised and marked him just as much as his words.

“I can’t go out there as Shiva again,” he muttered quietly. “This was a stupid idea to begin with.”

"Oh, no. No, no, no, you can't back out now! This is startin' to get interesting!" Shura snatched the bottle of rum by its neck and filled Yukio's glass to the brim. "Drink! And let's talk this through. You're so close, kid!" She more or less shoved the glass back into Yukio's hand, somehow without spilling, before lifting two fingers and wiggling them in place. "Look. Either Yamantaka's an absolute ass who just wanted to screw with you—and I mean that both figuratively and literally." She snickered. "OR," she added before Yukio could cut in, "he's going after ya seriously. Either way, you oughta use this to your advantage! Go out there! Trick him into lettin' his guard down! You've already managed once!"

The protest died quickly in his throat and Yukio’s gaze hardened. He allowed Shura’s words to repurpose him, or rather, to refind his purpose. That’s right. He had started the whole Shiva thing to bring Yamantaka down in the first place. He was the one who had lost sight and that had given Yamantaka the opening he needed.

“I hate when you’re right,” he grumbled before taking a deep drink from his glass.

“That’s the spirit~!” Shura smirked smugly. With that sorted out of the way, however, she couldn’t help to jump back in to needle him a little more. “Man, but I can’t believe it was that thief of all people who finally got ya out of your dry spell. I’m tellin’ ya! You gotta start putting less hours at the office! Grab some sucker from out there and get them to take ya home for a good time. You can’t be allowin’ yourself to get seduced that easily next time!” she chortled.

“It’s not like he asked and I buckled!” Yukio growled, his face blushing red again as he rubbed the side of his neck. He barely touched it for long, though, before he caught himself and pulled his hand away, checking his palm for smears of makeup. “I was out of sorts. Suguro grabbed me before I could escape and Yamantaka came back for me. I wasn’t really thinking straight. And then he insisted I owed him a dance and he had some stupid music, probably from a phone in his pocket or something.” He lifted his drink and took a deep gulp, letting the alcohol loosen his muscles as they tensed with the memory. He could still hear the playing of the keys, still feel the way his heel caught clumsily on the roof as Yamantaka led him in that fateful tango.

“We danced,” he muttered. “And then I… we kissed, and one thing led to another. After it was all over, he put the tiara on me, said ‘until our next date,’ and left.” And he couldn’t forget that final kiss. The way it had seared his warm body like a wax seal on a letter. Yukio touched his lips, remembering the sensation as if it had happened mere moments before.

“Hey. What did I just say about gettin’ swept up in it all? Wipe that dopey look from your face!” she scolded. 

Still, she seemed begrudgingly impressed by what Yukio had revealed. It made her sip her beer contemplatively. “Well, my advice still stands, but here’s another. If he’s that much of a smooth criminal, just don’t let him kiss ya. Flirt back, but keep your distance. And then when he least expects it...” She mimed the action of yanking off a mask off her own face with a devilish smirk.

Yukio let the fingers slip off from his lips and he clenched his fist. _Steel yourself, Okumura._

“Right. I’ve got my in. I should take advantage of it.” He nodded and looked at Shura. “Thanks for putting my head on straight. For _once._ ”

“Hey! I always give great advice! And for free too. Will it kill ya to act a little more grateful every once in a while?” The pointed remark would have had more effect had she looked anything other than amused. 

“I said thank you. Besides, you’re always more interested in riling me up than helping me so you’ll excuse me if I don’t believe you,” Yukio bit back sharply before emptying his glass. He slid it towards her and she was more than happy to refill it. “Just one more and it’ll be over.”

"Don't go backing out like a scaredy-cat now." Shura couldn't resist the old nickname. “Go out there and nail him!” She kept her straight face for the entirety of two seconds before bursting into giggles. “Get it? Because, you know—” 

“I GET IT!”


	8. Going Out on the Town

Renzou had been called many things in his life—a slacker, directionless, an unrepentant flirt. All of which were true, but the first two in particular could only be pinned on him to an extent. After all, when he had a goal set in mind, Renzou went all out to achieve it. It was why he was such a successful thief in the first place. 

And as far as love went... Well, Konekomaru could vouch for him (with a profound lack of enthusiasm) that Renzou took that with twice as much seriousness. It was why his friend was worried out of his mind about him; finding out that Yukio and Shiva were one and the same was a fact only Renzou alone found to be fortuitous. 

"Please, please get your head out of the clouds, Shima-san. You can't possibly be considering what I think you are. Promise me, _please_ promise me that you won't reveal yourself to him. You're gonna land yourself in jail!"

He'd gone off on a lengthy rant on why this was a bad idea. He'd even tried to convince Renzou to cool off and head back to Kyoto—“or anywhere else you want!”—but Renzou had been unmoved.

"Koneko-san, you're lookin' at this all wrong. You just don't get it. You haven't seen the way he looks at me!"

"Have you?!" If Konekomaru would have had any hair on his head, he most likely would be pulling it out given the levels of his stress. "He's been after you for years. The only thing he wants to do is slap his cuffs on you and throw you behind bars."

"I mean, I'm not against a little S&M here and there—"

"You know that's not what I meant!"

"You don't know that's not what _he_ means—"

"Shima-san!"

They hadn't come to an agreement in the end. However, Konekomaru did make him promise to keep his identity under wraps. For now. Renzou was not one to be easily deterred though. He was a man on a mission, and now that he had his parameters set, there was nothing stopping him from wooing Yukio as himself.

The first step to doing so was setting a date. And despite not having Yukio's direct phone number to arrange this, this did not pose a problem for him. A quick call to Rin was all he needed to put together a group outing. 

"Great then! Let’s meet there! By the way, why don't ya bring your brother with you this time? Sounds like he could use the fresh air. And I'm sure Ryuuji would love havin' someone else to talk to when Koneko-san and I start pesterin' ya for recipes again," he joked.

 _“That’d be a great idea!”_ Rin sounded overjoyed by the prospect. _“You two are really getting along, huh?”_

"I think so too~" Renzou grinned dopily, pressing his phone close to his cheek as he spun on his heel. "Feels like we've really made a connection. I'm lookin' forward to seeing him again, so I hope he can make it!" 

_“I hope so too! That guy, he’s always working way too hard. Even more so recently. I know he takes pride in his work and everything, but I hope being friends with you gets him to calm down a bit and take more breaks. Please help him out, Renzou! I’m begging you as his older brother!”_

"Heheh. Leave it to me! You just make sure he comes with ya, okay?"

With the plan set in motion, Renzou only had one last decision to consider.

_Would it be too much if I show up with flowers?_

* * *

"Shima. What are you doin’?"

The restaurant that Renzou had chosen for them to meet at had the cozy, intimate atmosphere often found at an izakaya, but it had a bit of a more modern touch, too. Black tabletops, shiny enough to see your reflection on them; comfy, red leather high-top seats; the lightning of the place was a bit dim, the small candles resting at the center of each table supplemented by low hanging lights that looked like stars, or flowers.

Renzou was sketching out a bouquet of them on a napkin as they waited for Rin and Yukio to arrive. 

"You're the detective here. Take a guess," he said.

As expected, his comment received an eye roll. Ryuuji went back on his phone then, likely to check in on Rin, who had last texted him ten minutes ago saying they were running a little late. It wasn't unexpected. The only time Rin was ever on time to anything other than work was when Ryuuji went to pick him up, but since he was bringing his brother along today, Rin had insisted on meeting them at the restaurant instead. 

"It's better if I do this by myself. And I'm dragging him with me if it's the last thing I do!" he'd vowed. Renzou didn't doubt him. 

Still, despite anticipating their delayed arrival, he'd ended up showing up on time himself, driven by his eager nerves. Ryuuji had been the first to arrive of course, punctual as ever, but he'd only beat Renzou by half a minute. They'd entered together and were led to the table Renzou had reserved in advance. Drinks had already been ordered and they had an appetizer on the way too. All that was left was for their dates to arrive. 

It was then that Ryuuji blinked, his attention caught by the message that popped up on his screen. “Ah. They’re—”

“Here!” Rin called, waving his hand as, much to Renzou’s unending excitement, he dragged Yukio to the table.

“I can _walk,_ ” Yukio grumbled as he snatched his hand back once they arrived. Rin gave him a cheeky grin before instantly claiming the seat next to Ryuuji and kissing his cheek.

“Sorry, we’re late!” 

“For the record, it was Nii-san’s fault.” Yukio rolled his eyes as he sat down in the only available chair left. “Good evening, Suguro,” he said politely over Rin’s complaints. He then turned to Renzou. “And... we’ve met three times now, but I never got your name.”

The weight of Yukio's gaze had Renzou straightening up and leaning in a little. "Oh, the name's Renzou," he answered with an eager smile. "But you can call me anythin' ya like, really. I'm quite fond of pet names. How about you? It was Yukio, right?" Renzou traced the contour of Yukio's face with his eyes. Though it was hardly the first time, he couldn't help but to savor the sight of him. He engraved each new detail he uncovered into his memory, and it gave him a special kind of thrill to notice that the mole that had given Yukio away before was still being covered up with makeup. "A gorgeous name for a gorgeous face. I hope you'll forgive me for takin' so long to mention it."

“Um.” Yukio stared, clearly stunned by the forwardness. As ever, though, he was quick to catch up and met Renzou’s tone with a counter of his own. “I would much rather you call me Okumura while we get to know each other. Also, I was under the impression that another one of your friends would also be coming?” He turned his head pointedly away from Renzou as he looked to his brother instead.

“Oh yeah.” Rin tilted his head. “Where’s Konekomaru?”

“Ah, apparently, he couldn’t make it.” Ryuuji frowned. He was as disappointed to deliver the news as he had been when he’d gotten them himself, and as he eyed Renzou, the pink-haired man sensed his friend's temptation to lay it on him again for the mix up.

“Yeah, it’s too bad! He was actually scheduled for work today!” Renzou cut in to explain, smiling sheepishly. “But since we already made the plans, I figured we would just catch up with him next time.” 

In actuality, he had purposely planned for Konekomaru to be absent. They couldn’t have a double date with five people after all. (Plus, he was pretty sure Konekomaru was going to kill him for setting this up, even if he had been invited. He was determined to charm Yukio’s heart before his friend ever found out.)

“I see. Next time, then.” Yukio shifted in his seat.

“Aw. Guess it can’t be helped,” Rin agreed as he leaned slightly against Ryuuji. “So how was work today? All good?”

“As good as it can go with Yamantaka and Shiva running about,” Yukio sighed.

"Tch. Those good for nothin’ thieves... I still can't believe they were in cahoots this whole time." Ryuuji's mood immediately soured. He'd been holding a grudge over the events that took place in the last heist. The apology flowers Renzou had sent him had apparently done very little to improve his mood.

 _And I sent you your favorites too_ , he thought accusingly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. 

Out of curiosity—and the desire to gaze at Yukio’s face a little longer—Renzou looked over at him and was disappointed to find his expression carefully schooled. He wouldn’t have thought anything of it if he hadn’t known what he did. 

“I’m still not sure about that,” Yukio replied coolly. “We can’t ignore the tone of Shiva’s calling card and his attitude up until now. It’s possible this is all one-sided.”

"No way!" Renzou couldn't help it. He objected at once. "Shiva clearly has a personal interest here. You can just tell!"

Yukio finally looked at him again. “That’s right, you told me your opinion when we last spoke. What was it, blackice?” 

“Black ice?” Given Ryuuji’s expression, he was as unfamiliar with the term as Yukio had been before. Renzou didn’t bother to educate him. He had a far more important argument to settle.

“You can’t deny they have a connection,” he insisted, holding Yukio’s gaze. “Imitation is the highest form of flattery, yanno. Clearly Shiva holds some admiration towards Yamantaka—you can tell from the calling card he sent as well, the way he addressed him!”

“You mean because he called him ‘dearest.’” And there, the tiniest of cracks in Yukio’s expression appeared as the corner of his lips twitched into a brief smirk. Renzou nearly melted at the sight. “You really do think this is some sort of courting ritual.”

“It makes sense, I think. If you’re both mysterious thieves, how else do you flirt?” Rin replied as the server brought their drinks over. Ryuuji nudged over the one he ordered for Rin. He smiled warmly in response. 

"You see!" Renzou would have flashed Rin a grateful grin for his support, but his full attention was on one man only. "In fact, I would even wager that it was Shiva's intention to seduce Yamantaka in the first place," he declared with a challenging smirk. 

“You’re grasping at straws,” Yukio accused immediately. “There’s no basis for that kind of claim at all.”

"Isn't there?" Renzou had already gone over this in length with Konekomaru, so he didn't miss a beat in laying out the facts. "Even in that very first meeting, Shiva made it obvious. He could have just stolen Yamantaka's mark and ran off just like that, but instead, he threw out a challenge. He wanted to be chased. He wanted Yamantaka's eyes on him. Not the police’s. Not the rest of the world. Can you really say otherwise?"

“And who’s to say that was born out of seduction?” Yukio narrowed his eyes. “He wanted to be chased, yes, but maybe it was just a challenge to his territory, as he stated in that same speech you’re referencing.”

"I don't buy it. If Shiva was interested in humiliatin’ Yamantaka, I think he'd be clever enough to manage it. That's not his intention."

Ryuuji snorted, unable to hold back on the discussion anymore. "Since when are you a Shiva expert? I thought you were all in on that bastard Yamantaka." 

The name calling was so uncalled for. Renzou shot Ryuuji an exasperated glare. 

"First of all, you really gotta let go of this whole tasing thing already. You brought it on yourself! And second of all, while you bet your ass I'll continue to support Yamantaka until my dyin’ breath, that doesn't mean I can't support Shiva. What’s not to like? He's talented, determined, charming. He's Yamantaka's perfect match!"

Renzou looked back at Yukio and Ryuuji’s protest fell on deaf ears. Both of Yukio’s eyebrows were raised in what could only be shocked amusement and that curl of his lips into a slight smile was nothing less than divine. 

“What was your name again?” Yukio prompted him in a light voice.

“Renzou.” The answer was eager, quick. 

“Your _full_ name,” Yukio insisted ruthlessly as the smile tilted into a smirk.

“Oh, there’s no need to get so formal.” Renzou matched his smirk.

“I think I’ll make that decision for myself.” Yukio turned to look expectantly at the two across the table. 

Rin caved in first, though by the amused look on Ryuuji's face, he wouldn't have been far behind. The traitor.

"Shima," Rin revealed, giving Renzou an apologetic smile and shrug. 

“Thank you, Nii-san.” Yukio turned to look back at him. “Shima-kun, how long have you been following Yamantaka?”

Renzou could have pouted. He longed to hear those familiar lips utter his first name. And yet, the missed opportunity gave him a rush of adrenaline not unlike the one he felt on the night he'd first met Yukio wearing that brilliant white mask. It only made Renzou want to chase after him more. 

"I'd say probably for even longer than you, detective. Why?"

“Curious as to your credentials. When did you first hear of him?”

"Credentials?" Ryuuji snorted. "This guy's just obsessed with meeting him face to face, that's all. He's been like that since I first met Yamantaka back in Kyoto. Says he’s working on painting somethin’ worthy enough to become a target. Fanboy," he accused.

“Critic,” Renzou shot back.

“Suguro, I’m disappointed in you,” Yukio said straightening up as he finally grabbed the menu.

“Huh?” Ryuuji’s dumbfounded expression juxtaposed Renzou’s elated one.

“Fanatic’s opinions, however frustrating, are always useful,” Yukio replied as he scanned his options. “Though we may not agree with him, his passion allows him to see things we might have not seen, look at things in a way we never would have considered. As a detective you should always be willing to see things from another’s point of view. You never know when something seemingly inconspicuous could turn a case around. For instance.” He lifted his gaze. “Let’s say he has a point and Shiva’s purpose was to seduce Yamantaka. It would not only explain Yamantaka’s actions against you, but give us valuable insight as to what’s going on behind the scenes. Ever since Shiva’s shown up, we haven’t seen a glimpse of any of the items that have been stolen out on the market. This implies they’re probably not being sold immediately after they’re stolen, but hoarded.”

“They could just be waiting for their opportunity since we’ve been so hot on their trails,” Ryuuji replied, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair. 

Yukio waved his hand. “We’ve been just as hot on their trails now as we were before. Trust me. We haven’t made a single bit of headway in unmasking either of them despite your confrontation with Shiva last time. Close as you were, we didn’t get any practical evidence to help track him down.”

Ryuuji scowled, but he was forced to accept Yukio’s words.

“So then we have to ask, why are the items being hoarded?” Yukio gestured to Renzou. “What if he’s right? What if this is a courting ritual? What if they are, instead of seeking monetary compensation, gifting each other said items out of sentimental value for the experience of the heist itself? You said it yourself, Shiva is a touch more emotional than Yamantaka is and Yamantaka has clearly been taken by Shiva’s attitude given the way he helped him despite their outwardly spoken rivalry. It’s a possible theory, one that shouldn’t be discounted.”

"Yeah, yeah!" Renzou positively beamed, all too pleased by Yukio's explanation—nay, by his confirmation to one of the arguments Renzou had made when he had been talking to Konekomaru. There was no doubt in his mind that the diamond bracelet that had started all of this was still in Yukio's possession. And for what reason would a police officer hold on to that sort of career-ending contraband other than sentimentalism? Renzou certainly had not wanted to part ways with the Ruby Drop for that exact reason. 

"Guess you're not the lead detective on the case for nothin', huh?" He took the opportunity to give Yukio another appraising look, though it was merely an excuse to let his eyes linger on him. 

“Don’t underestimate me,” he replied as he looked back down at his menu.

"You know..." Renzou's grin became a coy, teasing little thing. "Did Ryuuji ever tell ya how jealous he was of you? He used to complain to Koneko-san and I all the time that it wasn't fair that he kept getting sidelined by some asshole when he first transferred here. Of course, we had no idea he meant you back then, and meeting you now, I've gotta say that introduction doesn't give you justice at all."

"What?!" Predictably, Ryuuji squawked in protest immediately. "Shima! Don't put words in my mouth!"

Yukio’s eyes rose again to meet Ryuuji’s flustered expression before his gaze was drawn back to Renzou. “I have nothing but the highest respect for Suguro as one of my coworkers. You, on the other hand,” he paused. “Well, let’s just say I understand why you admire Yamantaka so much.”

“Oh? Do you? And what makes you say that?”

Unfortunately, the return of their server prevented Renzou from getting an answer just then, but he didn’t allow the distraction to derail their conversation. After they had placed their orders, he pounced again. 

“Well?” He stared at Yukio expectantly. 

“I don’t know if you want to hear the answer.” 

“Don’t be shy,” Renzou insisted, winking. “I don’t scare away easily.”

“Well, it takes a snake to know one,” Yukio responded.

“Yukio!” Rin said with a scolding tone.

Renzou was not in the least bit insulted however. Rather, despite not having any doubt that Yukio was none other than his beloved, Shiva, hearing those familiar words took him back to the night they had slept together. Shiva had called him just the same, almost affectionately so, and as one thief to another, Renzou couldn't resist spinning them back on him. "If that's the case, what exactly does that say about your character, detective?" he countered with a devilish grin.

“A snake catcher,” Yukio replied sternly, though the hint of amusement on his lips didn’t go unseen. “And that’s it.”

"Yeah?" Renzou stared at Yukio's lips very intently. "That's it? Sure you're not a snake charmer instead? You had me fooled."

“Rin…” Ryuuji leaned across the space between them in an attempt to aim for discretion, but his bemused voice carried across the table anyway. “Are they… flirtin’?” 

“Shh!” Rin hushed Ryuuji as he quickly nodded, the anticipatory smile still firmly on his lips. 

The spell was broken just like that however. Yukio looked at them, his face flushing red, and averted Renzou’s gaze, clearly feeling self-conscious. 

“Ah, I’m sorry. Not sure what came over me,” Yukio muttered in a stiff tone.

 _Dammit, Ryuuji._ For the second time that evening, Renzou shot Ryuuji a glare, this one more heated than the last. At the very least, Ryuuji did wince in response this time, somewhat apologetic, but probably only because Rin was also digging his elbow into his side.

“Ryuujiii!” Rin whined. “You gotta be more subtle. Yukio’s a sensitive guy!”

Yukio’s shoulders hunched a bit as Rin’s well meaning comment dug him further into his defensive posture. “Please don’t talk about me as if I’m not here, Nii-san.”

"Sorry." Ryuuji looked just as uncomfortable for his faux-paus and he picked up his glass of water as if to hide behind it. "It just surprised me. Most people just find Shima annoying."

And somehow, he seemed to keep digging himself into a deeper grave. Renzou thought about forgiving him when he spotted Yukio holding down a smile, but it was too little too late. As Ryuuji took a sip of his drink, Renzou aimed a well timed kick to him under the table, causing Ryuuji to spill water all over himself. 

"Wh- Ah, shit!" he cursed.

Rin quickly grabbed a few napkins on the table, but the spill was much too big for what they had. “Oh jeez, it’s spreading. Let’s go to the bathroom really quick. We’ll be right back!” He took Ryuuji by the elbow and led him away from the table.

There was a moment of silence as Yukio watched them leave before he muttered quietly. “I saw that.”

Renzou picked up the cocktail he'd ordered for himself, which had remained untouched until now. Some of the ice had melted in the course of their conversation, but the watered down flavor didn't even make a dent in how smug he felt just then. 

"I'm sure I have no idea what you mean," he said, though his expression was anything but innocent. 

“Hm.” Yukio was more than happy to drink the water that had been placed in front of him. “Are you two friends, then?”

"Known each other since we were babies. We're practically brothers." _As if I don't have enough of those._ And yet, among all of his other siblings, Renzou did have to admit that Ryuuji and Konekomaru counted as far better siblings than most of his real ones. Thinking about that made Renzou smile ruefully, losing some of his ire towards Ryuuji. "He can be a pain every once in a while though. I think that's my green light to bully him now and then."

“That’s fair,” Yukio muttered with a warm tone to his voice. “Though Nii-san is my actual brother, I think we feel that way about each other mutually.” He paused for a moment before looking at Renzou. “Were you flirting with me?”

“You couldn’t tell?” It was entirely endearing how clueless Yukio seemed to be about these kinds of things. Renzou felt himself melt all over again. Only the butterflies fluttering wildly in his chest allowed him to maintain upright. “You’re really not very self-aware, huh?” He chuckled, a sound that wasn’t in the slightest bit mocking. “It’s cute.”

Delightfully, Yukio’s cheeks reddened. Renzou realized they must have reddened that night too, but the mask and the night had hidden away the gorgeous color. 

“What is it with people telling me I’m not self-aware?” he grumbled, his lips pressing against the rim of his glass. “I’m perfectly aware. I just don’t have time to flirt very often so it’s a bit of a shock whenever someone does.”

"You do strike me as the type of guy who's married to his work. But as long as that's my only competition, I think I've got a chance. What do you say, detective?"

Yukio’s eyes widened and he looked at him. The gaze then turned analytic and his narrowed eyes took their time in sizing him up. “Are you actually asking me out? Really? You know you’re talking to the person who wants to put your beloved thief behind bars, right? That won’t change.”

 _I'm not so sure about that._ In retrospect, Shiva's single-minded focus on unmasking him made a lot more sense now, but how could Renzou worry about that sort of thing in light of everything else? "The heart can't help but to want what it wants. Plus, isn't it nice, taking a risk every once in a while? See where that takes you?"

Yukio let out an amused exhale from his nose. “You really are a Yamantaka fanboy.” He shook his head slightly. “I haven’t dated in a long time. I’m not sure I’d be very good at it, to be honest. As you said, I’m married to my work, and my brother has enough trouble with Suguro. You don’t want that kind of partner.”

"I think I've got a pretty fair idea of what I'm gettin' into, actually." The wall Yukio was attempting to put up was one Renzou was intimately familiar with, and he felt very, very tempted to lean forward and just tear it down and kiss him. It was just a few inches, a mere foot of distance. But somehow, their lack of masks seemed to make that distance greater. "Like I said before. I don't scare off easily. So..." Renzou reached into his pocket and took out the napkin he had been decorating earlier. He scribbled down his phone number on it along with his first name before finally breaching Yukio's personal space so he could slip the napkin in the front pocket of his shirt as he held his gaze with a suave smile. "Why don't you think about it, and call me when you change your mind?"

The way Yukio looked down made Renzou think of their second heist—their second date—when Shiva had given the rose due scrutiny. This time, he met his eyes afterwards and Renzou could see the eyebrow raise. 

“When?” he prompted. “Aren’t you confident?”

"A little. Maybe I'm just optimistic." Renzou flashed him a toothy grin. “Come on, tell me at least I’ve got a chance, gorgeous.”

Yukio’s wry smirk returned at the nickname. He stared at him for a few long moments, considering his response before he glanced to the side. Renzou followed his eyes to see Rin and Ryuuji approaching the table again. 

“A chance.”

Renzou looked back at him, meeting those beautiful green eyes once more.

“You have a chance,” Yukio said before turning his attention to Rin’s boisterous return.


	9. Runaway Baby

_Darling -_

_No jewel in this world can do justice to the scarlet blush that blossoms on your skin, but this one comes close. Let's meet again and see who will have the better harvest. You bring the dango, and perhaps if you snatch this bouquet from me, I'll gift you its matching ring._

_Love, Yamantaka._

Yukio shouldn’t have been surprised, but given their last meeting, Yamantaka had dropped all pretenses. It was clear the calling card has been addressed directly to Shiva with its introduction of _darling._

Several thoughts crossed Yukio’s mind when he’d seen the calling card read aloud on the news. First, that the internet must be going wild, and surely Renzou was a part of that group. Second, the pink haired man had certainly deserved whatever smugness he wanted to aim at Ryuuji for getting their motives right.

Of course Yukio technically already knew it, but still. 

The calling card was dissected and picked apart and they soon arrived at a few possible targets and the date of the heist with fair confidence. There were three options in the end and Yukio was lucky enough to be able to split the force between them. It would certainly give Shiva and Yamantaka plenty of time.

So on the 15th of that month, the night of the moon viewing festival, Yukio forwent bringing dango and instead headed to the location which he deemed most likely. The storage warehouse behind the banquet hall was large and had more than decent security boosted by police presence but, most importantly, it held the Red Scarlet, a necklace that would be auctioned off the next day.

Yamantaka had always been a fan of cutting it close, and so Yukio felt a personal gratification when he landed on the roof beside the black clothed thief.

“The police seem confused,” he mused as if he didn’t have a hand in aiding that confusion. “You gave them quite the puzzle this time.”

"Darling, you’re here!” At once, Yamantaka was in Yukio’s space. He captured his hand in a smooth movement and brought it to his lips, pressing a light kiss against it. “Well, I was hoping we'd get a little more one on one time. Can you blame me?" After meeting Yukio’s eyes, smiling, he gave him a more cursory look. "I'm glad you could make it, but I’m disappointed you're empty handed... And here, I thought we could have a picnic under the stars."

“No play until after the work is done, Dearest.” The response fell from his lips more naturally than Yukio expected from himself. He was glad the confidence of Shiva’s mask had returned to him. He squeezed his hand briefly. “Now, have you been doing nothing but daydreaming, or will you impress me today?”

“I can think of a very many ways to impress you.” Yamantaka's other hand came to rest on Yukio's back and with a slight push, he nudged him closer until they were standing chest to chest. "How about it? We have an exciting job ahead of us. A kiss for good luck would do us both some good."

Shura’s warning rang through his head as Yamantaka leaned closer, clearly desiring his lips as much as the jolt in Yukio’s stomach desired his. He couldn’t afford to lose focus this early in the night.

“Did you hear what I said, you snake?” Yukio smirked and, despite himself, leaned forward a bit before he twisted from Yamantaka’s arms. “Necklace first. Then we can play after.” His heart beat rapidly in his vicinity and he was thankful the cadence was calming down as Yukio put distance between them. He knew that wouldn’t last all night, though. He had some time to gather himself, to steel himself. He couldn’t miss his opportunity this time.

“You drive such a hard bargain.” Yamantaka gave a very forlorn sigh, but he allowed Yukio to keep his distance, following him only with his eyes. “Alright then. Work first. With that sort of incentive in mind, though, know that I have every intention of making this job a quick one.”

“I look forward to your work. After all, I have been doing most of the legwork these past few dates. It’s time you pull your weight,” he replied coldly as his eyes travelled down, following the line of Yamantaka’s body until it ended at those skillful, dextrous fingers. He’d been on the other side of those hands once. The memory caused his cheeks to flush. Yukio paused and sighed. “Did you _really_ expect me to bring dango? Honestly,” he scoffed, taking out his grappling gun. 

“You make it sound like such an outrageous request. Can’t a guy wanna spend a little time getting to know you better? Think about it. Just you, me, maybe a little less clothes, our prize hanging on your neck, the stars our only witness as I hold you close and feed you.” Yamantaka cocked his head, staring at Yukio with a smirk as he took out his own grappling gun. “Tempted?” 

He was, but Yukio stamped that thought down as soon as it came up. He was a police officer, dammit. He shouldn’t be taken by the idea of lounging with a stolen five million dollar necklace hanging around his neck.

“I might be,” he responded vaguely instead. “We’ll see. Impress me and maybe I’d be willing to give you the night again.” _And rip off your mask while I’m at it._ “And while we’re on the subject,” Yukio pointed at the fading mark on the side of his neck that he didn’t bother to cover this time around. “Don’t mark me quite so visibly, Dearest. It was a pain to keep covered up.”

“Heh. I don’t know if that’s a promise I can keep, Darling. But for you, I’ll try my very best.”

Yamantaka gave him a jaunty salute, and it was with those parting words that he took off. Clearly, he really had no interest in wasting any time, not with Yukio urging him to put on his best performance. 

And boy, did he deliver. Yukio took after him just as quickly, not wanting to lose sight of him. He was all too painfully familiar with how easy Yamantaka could meld into the shadows and disappear until he damned well pleased. Tonight though, it seemed like Yamantaka wanted the audience. Or maybe it was just easier to keep track of him now that they were both playing the same game. Regardless, as he allowed Yamantaka to take the lead, interested in familiarizing himself with the other thief's methods firsthand, Yukio found himself growing enchanted against his will. Watching Yamantaka at work took him back to their last encounter, to the dance they shared. Yamantaka moved with just as much grace now, each footstep as deliberate as the next and leaving a step by step path he could follow. He dodged every guard, every alarm, moving around them as if he was listening to a song only he could hear. His outline might as well have been a whisper in the wind. But even ghosts had to materialize sometime to remind the world of their existence. As they drew closer to the room that held their prize, Yamantaka came to a full stop, lingering before the doorway. The two guards that had been stationed on either side of the door were sprawled across on the ground, knocked unconscious by a quick application of sleeping gas.

Yukio turned back, listening from where they came, gratified to hear nothing. Whoever they passed had been incapacitated to make room for him or artfully dodged, Yamantaka having enough faith that Yukio could pass through the window he’d given him.

“The security is tight,” he whispered, approaching Yamantaka. He knew most, if not all of the security measures in the room the Red Scarlet was being held in. After all, there was a reason there weren’t many guards. They couldn’t have a wandering officer tripping the wrong sensor. “What’s the plan?”

Yamantaka examined the room before them with consideration, tilting his head a bit. "Hmm, it's even more impressive than I thought it would be. This should be fun." He turned to look at Yukio then and flashed him a smile. "I think an encore is in order. May I?"

Like so many times before, Yamantaka didn't wait for an answer. A small music player appeared in his hands in the next second along with a pair of headphones. One earbud went into his ear, while the other was placed into Yukio's with a tender touch that lingered sweetly before it slid away and reached for his hand. His other curled around Yukio’s waist, once again pulling him close. And as music began to play, Yukio understood Yamantaka’s intention at once. He grabbed his cape and wrapped it around his arm. This time, it benefited them to get as close as possible. This time, he didn’t pull away.

He remembered reviewing the layout of the room with Ryuuji when they considered this as one of the possible targets. A necklace worth five million was worth every security and the main mechanisms were based around infrared laser tripwires. They crisscrossed the room and, though they couldn’t be seen by the naked eye, the small machines that produced them were visible enough. From there, it was a matter of mentally drawing a straight line to the other side. Should the laser be interrupted at any point, the alarm would go off and the warehouse would go into lockdown, trapping them inside until the police were ready enough to open the doors. 

It was an exercise of trust more than anything else as Yukio stepped backwards into the room, moving as Yamantaka moved, leading him in a dance with purpose. His hand slipped around to the small of his back, guiding him with presses of his fingers that moved to the beat of their steps and the music in their ears. 

_It’s the same song,_ Yukio realized as he followed the movements easily, remembering the dance like a dream that just wouldn’t stop replaying in his mind over and over and over again. They slipped past the invisible tripwires, Yamantaka twirling Yukio past a tight squeeze before following through with a quick slide of his heel on the ground. 

Then as Yukio moved his foot back, the steps changed. Yamantaka reached down and pulled his knee up, stepping between his legs as he cleared a laser close to the ground. Yukio remained still, leaning completely into Yamantaka’s arms as he carefully navigated the lasers near their feet. He felt the thief lower his foot to the ground and Yukio pressed his weight into it, bringing his other leg around, close to him, stepping over Yamantaka’s leg in a passionate tangle of limbs. Somehow, they were still on beat, on key with the music playing between the two of them. 

His heart was pounding as Yamantaka leaned in and whispered, “reverse,” into his open ear before twirling him around. His back pressed against the thief’s chest, as the hand on his waist slipped around to his stomach, the weight of his palm almost too distracting on his skin. His other hand traveled down his arm, around his wrist, before his fingers intertwined with his. 

“Good,” he breathed in Yukio’s ear as they stepped forward again, squeezing through the gap ahead of them.

His heart fluttered, matching the heavy feeling that had found its way into their bodies. Yukio tilted his head back slightly, meeting Yamantaka’s gaze as he leaned forward, giving just enough space for the laser above their heads. Their lips hovered close to each other. 

They didn’t kiss. 

“Four,” Yamantaka whispered. Yukio gave him a slightly clueless look, the spell around them quivering. “Your leg,” he explained and Yukio knew what he meant.

Yukio brought his knee up, hooking his foot around Yamantaka’s thigh, their legs together creating a number four as the thief took that leg, stepping back and pivoting to lead Yukio around a tight cluster. It was getting more precarious the closer they got. 

“Other leg. Sit.” 

It didn’t take much for Yukio to realize what he was saying this time. He shifted his hips, pressing on Yamantaka’s thigh. Then, at the same time, Yamantaka’s hand moved down to his waist, holding his weight as Yukio lifted his other leg, crossing it over his bent knee. He wrapped both arms around Yamantaka’s neck and looked down at him as he was lifted for a few extra steps, getting closer and closer to their target. Yukio glanced about, taking in their surroundings, and grabbed Yamantaka’s hood, the loose bit of cloth mere centimeters away from triggering a tripwire. He leaned in close, and he just couldn’t resist. 

A brush of lips against Yamantaka’s jaw had the thief’s fingers tightening on his hip, lifting him with more strength as they moved closer to the Red Scarlet. 

They were barely a few steps away, but the lasers between them and the necklace were intent on stopping them. 

However, despite the fact that danger cut the air inches from their skin, despite the fact that one wrong move would destroy his life and his career, he wasn’t worried. All Yukio could do was look into Yamantaka’s eyes as he held him. His fingers caressed the thief’s cheek and he watched as the smile under the shadow of the mask widened in response. It was smooth, sweet. The warmth touched his chest and Yukio forgot where they were.

“I have to tilt you back, Darling,” he whispered, taking the earbud from him and tucking it into the collar of his shirt. “There’s a switch.”

There was. Built into the pedestal where the Red Scarlet was being stored, there was a switch that would turn off the beams as a failsafe. It was designed to allow whoever got stuck by the pedestal to have just enough time to run to the exit before the lasers turned back on. 

“Be ready,” Yukio warned quietly.

“Just run right back into my arms once you hit it.” The thief gave him a dazzling smile and tilted him back. 

Yukio leaned back, looking back and forth. He spotted the sensors and was able to triangulate the safe spots. Yukio released Yamantaka’s neck and placed his palms on the floor as he bent backwards, then followed the slow momentum of his weight as Yamantaka released him into a walkover where he landed crouched in front of the switch. He pressed it. 

There was a nearly imperceptible snap in the air and a hum of deactivated machinery and Yamantaka stepped forward to snatch the jewelry box. He flicked it open briefly, smiled, snapped it shut and opened his arms in time for Yukio to jump into them. 

“Off we go.” 

Their exit was much less exact but no less graceful. It was a whirlwind rush compared to the slow build up of their dance as the doors slammed open in response to the deactivation of the alarm. Shouts of police and guards filled the room but the two thieves only had eyes for each other. 

Yamantaka curled his fingers tight around his waist and shot the grappling gun, letting the wire’s momentum pull them up into the rafters where they escaped through one of the high windows in the building that was otherwise unreachable. 

Once they were back outside, even the air that welcomed them seemed lighter. The rush of their escape, of their success, sang beneath their skin like sweet ambrosia. Yamantaka let out a joyful laugh and the sound curled around Yukio’s ear like silver bells. 

“We did it.” 

“We did,” Yukio breathed, as they finally came to a stop several roofs away. He took a few steps back as his heart pounded a powerful rhythm against his ribs. His face was flushed. He could still feel the heated breath on his lips and it made him want. This was bad. He needed to cool down or Yamantaka was liable to sweep him off his feet again. 

"You know, I'm starting to think you lied to me when you said you couldn't dance." The thief’s words were low and teasing, but it was the way he was looking at him—as if he was the one who had been enchanted rather than the other way around—that made Yukio shiver. "We make a pretty great pair, huh? That was an outstanding performance, and it's left me aching for one last dance. What do you say?" 

The suggestive weight behind the question turned away the possibility that he was actually asking for a dance, and as he stole Yukio's hand and pressed a kiss against his knuckles, that idea became reinforced.

A tension grasped at the base of his spine and Yukio pulled his hand away. 

“Actually…” he whispered as he took further steps back, trying to pay no mind to Yamantaka’s confused expression. If he didn’t cool off, he wouldn’t be able to control himself. He pulled out his own grappling gun and sprinted to the edge of the roof. “I’m still feeling rather energetic, Dearest. If you want me, catch me!” he called over his shoulder and channeled all his pent up feelings into the muscles in his legs as he leaped off the roof and on to the next one. 

He didn’t need to look back as when he was halfway across the roof and aiming his hook, he heard the thump of Yamantaka’s light landing behind him. 

He had known for a long time that the roofs were Yamantaka’s territory. It was where he excelled, but since Shiva had come into play, Yukio had done his best to breach that space, to make it his own and stand on the same playing field as the thief he was attempting to catch. 

Yukio basked in that pride for a moment, but he couldn't allow himself to become distracted. He knew if he let his guard down for just a moment, it would be over.

So he ran. 

Time seemed to fade away as the two of them ran around, illuminated only by faint touch of the moonlight. Though they were as light on their feet as ever, the speed they went at drew some noise, though at this height, no one was around to see them. As he had hoped, the longer the chase went, the more the rhythm of Yukio's heart calmed down, pumped only by the adrenaline to stay a step ahead of Yamantaka. Every step forward allowed him to leave the feelings the other evoked inside of him behind. 

It was a relief. But the relief he deluded himself into feeling was too short lived. When he looked over his shoulder, after landing at the edge of another rooftop, he found himself alone. It was such a shock that it caused him to stop still, freezing in place. He looked around, turning his head left and right, clouded by a sense of loss, of confusion, of cautious victory, even of worry. Had he lost him? And then— 

Arms curled around his waist. His spine straightened as a hot whisper brushed against his ear. Yamantaka's chest pressed flush against Yukio's back.

"Caught you."

"You—"

"Heh. What was all that about?" Yukio felt Yamantaka's lips brush against the skin of his neck, against the fading mark he had left Yukio with in their last encounter. He pressed a kiss there that stretched into a grin. "Did you really think I wouldn't catch you? My most prized jewel?"

And now that he was still, wrapped in the thief’s arms again, all the feelings he’d managed to shed came back to him in a wave that was almost overwhelming. 

He wanted. 

Yukio twisted around in his grip, taking note of the way Yamantaka’s fingers tightened, not letting him step away again. He couldn’t let this continue. He had to end it. Yukio knew he couldn’t last one more night without losing another piece of himself. He truly was nothing more than a jewel in Yamantaka’s covetous grasp. 

And yet being this treasured, this desired, didn’t feel bad. It didn’t feel wrong.

Yukio pushed those feelings away.

“I wouldn’t say that was a test of your skills,” he murmured. “But rather, of your commitment.”

"Darling, I'm _thoroughly_ committed.” Yamantaka looked visibly delighted to hear his own words turned back on him. His smile was radiant, and he closed the distance between them even more, barely leaving an inch of space between them. “There is no one other than you that I would dare lay my eyes on. And there is no greater pleasure either, not anywhere in this world, than stealing a kiss from your lips. So please," he leaned in, whispering, "let me chase you for the rest of my life."

Oh God, he _wanted._

Yukio’s brow furrowed under the mask and the cool night air did nothing to calm the heat in his lungs as he breathed in Yamantaka’s very essence. His lips parted automatically, his body pressed closer, his fingers clutching at Yamantaka’s cheeks. 

This couldn’t continue on. He couldn’t keep going like this. If he did, he would surely break.

For the rest of their lives? Would he survive _tonight?_

Yukio leaned in and met Yamantaka’s lips in the middle. A light noise was drawn from him as the thief stole his breath and his heart, though Yukio fought desperately to hold on to the latter.

He had to finish this tonight. 

Yukio tilted his head, kissing Yamantaka a little deeper, letting him get fully distracted in pushing him up against the concrete wall. He did his best to ignore the wandering fingers as his own fingers followed the path to the prize he’d had his eye on since the beginning. 

The mask was light against his fingers as he slid them up Yamantaka’s cheek to touch the edge. The thief made no reaction, fully engrossed in the moment. Yukio knew it was now or never. Yamantaka was properly distracted. 

All he had to do was rip the mask off. He’d rip it off, memorize the face underneath and any identifying features and even if he should escape tonight, tracking him down would be easy. He’d make the arrest, throw the thief behind bars, get a promotion, and finally be able to work on other cases. He wouldn’t be laughed at for his incompetence. He wouldn’t be talked about as a failure. He wouldn’t be taunted in news reports and press conferences alike with loaded questions from reporters asking how the thief was still at large. He would be free to pursue his career without this hellish case looming over him like the damn shadow that Yamantaka represented.

All he had to do was rip the fucking mask off.

Yukio’s fingers trembled.

But if he did that… then wouldn’t all of this stop?

He would never again meet Yamantaka. He would never dance another tango. He would never again feel the exhilaration of running, being the chased instead of the chaser. He would never again feel the rush of victory, of adrenaline, of overwhelming triumph when they made it away with another score.

He would never kiss him again. Never touch him again. Never hold him again.

He would never be able to love him.

Yukio let out a whimper of desire as his fingers left the mask and moved behind Yamantaka’s head, clutching him closer, deepening their kiss into a crushing feeling and that pressure was the only thing that felt satisfying anymore. The feeling of his body against his. The vibrations of Yamantaka’s moan as it passed from his lips to his own. The way his fingers gripped tighter to him, echoing his desperation, his need, his— 

He wanted this.

He wanted him.

He wanted to be Shiva. He wanted Yamantaka. He wanted. He wanted. He wanted.

Something had to give. Something would have to break.

But tonight he could stand the strain of his life falling apart piece by piece, splinter by splinter, just as long as he had this.


	10. Would You Be So Kind

There was a picnic basket sitting on Renzou's kitchen table. In it, a bottle of expensive white wine, a pair of wine glasses, and a set of fine silverware had been neatly packed away. 

Renzou was standing in front of the stove, a spatula in one hand, and the handle of his frying pan on the other. On the counter beside him, his phone had been propped up on a stand.

"Okay, okay, I'm ready for ya, Rin. What now?"

 _“Okay, once the pan’s hot, melt the butter and immediately put the fish in. You wanna sear it up real good. Yukio likes the crunch. But don’t overcook it so it’s still all flakey on the inside,”_ Rin explained while motioning with his hands.

“Got it.” Renzou nodded, flashing a brief grin to his phone before turning his attention to the task before him. He dropped the slices of butter he'd cut up earlier onto the pan and watched with satisfaction as it began to sizzle and melt. He turned the pan around with a slow movement of his wrist, allowing the butter to coat it completely before obediently placing the fish on the pan as instructed. This too began to sizzle as soon as the skin hit the skillet. The aroma made Renzou's nostrils flare pleasantly.

"About how long do ya think I should leave it?" he asked.

_“Once you’ve got it seared, turn the heat down and give it ten minutes so the inside cooks. But just go with how it smells and keep an eye on it!”_

"Roger that! So, in the meantime, tell me, what else does your brother like? Favorite music? Dessert? Is he more of a book person or a movie person? Both?"

 _“Hmm.”_ Rin tapped his chin thoughtfully. _“He’s definitely more of a book person, but it’s not like he doesn’t like movies either. As for music, he gets pretty embarrassed about it, but he likes the more high paced stuff. Though maybe for a date he’d be happier with the normal kind. I haven’t really seen him_ **_dislike_ ** _any kinda music. And desserts? Dark chocolate. That guy has always liked the bitter stuff.”_

“What about green tea?”

 _“Yeah! He likes that!”_ Rin beamed.

"Damn. I should've asked ya earlier and just gotten that mousse from your shop!" Renzou huffed. "I'll have to look to see if there's a place around here that'll do. There's this ice cream place I went with Ryuuji once that I think Yukio will like, but it's a bit out of the way for what I have in mind." 

Rin was quickly surging to his feet. _“I can run one over if I leave now!”_ he offered eagerly.

"What? Seriously?" Renzou lit up with just as much excitement, though it died down quickly as the rest of that sentence caught up with him. "Wait, no. Don't leave me like this until this is done!" he exclaimed, making a vague gesture towards the pan with the spatula. 

_“Okay, okay!”_ Despite his reassurances, Rin was already bustling about, gathering a few things. _“Pay attention. How’s it searing? You don’t wanna burn it or it’ll ruin the whole flavor!”_

"I think it's good to go?" Renzou lifted one side of the fish with his spatula to check but he wasn't really sure. Fish wasn't one of his areas of expertise when it came to cooking and it was stressing him out. He wanted to get this perfect! "What do ya think? Turn it around?" He grabbed his phone off the stand and switched cameras so that Rin could get a good view.

Rin stopped so he could peer at his phone screen. _“Thirty seconds. Then flip,”_ he instructed. _“And do it carefully. It can fall apart.”_

Renzou took in a readying breath. _Come on, me. You can do this._ Without saying anything else, he set the phone back down on the stand and gave the frying pan his full attention. This shouldn't be any harder than getting past a high security room. There were paintings he had stolen in the past that required a gentle, well timed touch so he could replace the original with a copy without tripping up the pressure plate mechanism. If he could do something like that, surely he could manage this. It was just his nerves freaking him out.

_Three, two, one… Here we go._

He flipped the fish, fast and efficiently. A joyful, relieved smile lit up his face when he saw it remain intact. He quickly moved to turn the heat down before looking at Rin. "Success!" he cheered with a thumbs up.

 _“And that was the hardest part! Good job!”_ Rin pumped his fist. _“Put the cover on and let it cook. Just keep an eye on it and it won’t burn. I’ll be over soon with the mousse, okay? You got this!”_

"I got this!" Renzou repeated, gaining confidence. "Hey," he said as he covered the pan with a clear lid and put up a timer. "You're a lifesaver, Rin. I swear I'll make this up to ya somehow."

_“No way. The only way I want you to make it up to me is giving Yukio a good time, alright? I can tell he likes you! So just don’t blow it!”_

"You really think he likes me?" Renzou couldn't help but to seek out the reassurance. Of course, he knew Shiva liked him—as Yamantaka. But his efforts to woo Yukio hadn't quite been fruitious just yet. He hadn't received a single text message from him since the night they all had dinner together, but Renzou hadn't let go of the hope Yukio had given him. He had a chance. 

Tonight, however, would not be the time to grasp it. He felt a little bad for tricking Rin, but the persona that Renzou would be wooing this evening was actually Shiva. 

_“Renzou.”_ Rin’s voice brought him back to the present. He looked at his phone to see the man’s determined face. _“I’m serious. Yukio’s not a flirt and he was flirting with you. He’s interested. I know him better than anyone!”_

“Yeah?” And just like that, Renzou had a dopey smile on his face again. “I thought so too, but he really plays hard to get. I can’t say I dislike it though.” Rather, the chase made his heartbeat spike with equal parts desire and anticipation. 

_“Yukio’s just like that. He’s real proper and kinda shy. Be patient. You’ll get through to him.”_ Rin grabbed his keys and put a box under his arm. _“Just trust me, alright? I’ll head over now!”_

“Alright. See you soon then! And thanks again!”

After exchanging another goodbye, the two of them ended the call, and Renzou was left alone again with several minutes left on the timer. He peered at the fish, not quite worried, but not quite as confident anymore now that he had been left unsupervised. It was silly. He knew it was just his nerves, but he couldn’t quite get himself to calm down. In an attempt to rid himself of the restless energy, Renzou decided to finish packing the bento boxes sitting on his counter as he waited. 

Aside from the grilled fish, he had prepared soba noodles and pickled vegetables. He got the food out of his fridge and began portioning it out, adding just a little bit more to Yukio’s container, remembering well what he had heard about his large appetite. He didn’t overdo it, not wanting him to be either suspicious of his knowledge or self-conscious in general. When he was done with that, he checked back on the fish, but there were still two minutes left and all was looking well still, so he made a quick detour into his bedroom, into his hidden safe, and took out the very, very expensive necklace he had stolen with Yukio in their last rendezvous.

The Red Scarlet was as stunning to look at as ever. It stared up at him prettily from within its case, and Renzou took the time to admire it now that he had the chance to properly look at it; but he had been right when he had sent out his last calling card. Not even this jewel could match up to the gorgeous shade of red that he'd learn to evoke on Yukio's skin. He smiled lovingly as the memory of their last night together resurfaced, yearning swelling in his heart. 

Tonight, he would gift this to him properly. He had meant for Yukio to take it with him before they had parted ways last time, but after they had basked in each other’s arms in postcoital bliss, Yukio had been the one to gather back his wits first, and Renzou had only managed to stop him in time to propose another meeting, one to case their next score, before he’d vanished into the night.

That was what tonight was all about. And Renzou did genuinely have a score for them to study and consider. However, he was determined to finish their date properly and dine together under the stars today. A little wine, some good food and dessert would be a nice breather from all the excitement they'd had lately. 

_Ahh, I can't wait~! ♥_

He headed back into the kitchen with a hop to his step and slipped the necklace at the bottom of the picnic basket, right under the checkered blanket and cushions he’d packed for their date. Finally, he returned to the frying pan, just in time to turn the heat off and take the lid off. Steam and the pleasant aroma of his perfectly cooked fish wafted up from the frying pan. He grinned happily at his handiwork and immediately moved to store it away in the bento boxes. 

Renzou’s top floor apartment afforded him a few luxuries such as a prime view of the sunset, a nice lookout over the city, and easy access to the roof. But sometimes, the roof wasn’t always empty. There was a heavy thump above his head and Renzou looked up, blinking in shock at the ceiling as he quickly closed the basket, not wanting the Red Scarlet’s case to be visible. 

Curiosity drove him to his window. Heights had never bothered him, so Renzou pulled it open and leaned half his body out, his hips balancing precariously on the windowsill as he looked up past the ledge on the roof and listened. After a few moments, he frowned, not hearing anything further. Just as he was about to pull himself back inside, he felt something tickle at his hand. 

A spider, small as can be, but still disgusting and terrifying, was crawling on his hand. Renzou let out a high pitched yell and shook it off quickly. Though the spider had been successfully thrown off, his large movements threw his balance. Renzou quickly grabbed for the windowsill as he tilted backwards but only caught it by the tips of his fingers, and though it slowed his fall, it did nothing to stop it. 

But just as he was beginning to fall, as his feet cleared the window, as Renzou’s mind finally came to the realization that he _was_ falling, a flash of white covered his vision. Renzou grasped onto the person who had caught him as their descent suddenly halted. The wind slowly pushed them, swinging them lightly from the wire that held them aloft. 

“You idiot! What did you think you were doing? How did you even fall out?!”

The voice scolding him was familiar. Renzou, still gripping on to the white suit, looked up to meet the green eyes hidden behind an equally white mask. 

“Shiva…” he breathed out in shock. Was this a dream? The scare he had just experienced seemed eons away. His senses were solely overwhelmed by the tight arm wrapped around his waist, by the other’s warmth, his heartbeat, which was beating fast against his knuckles. Renzou curled his fingers tighter around the fabric of the other’s shirt, entranced, and more than a little bit starstruck. “You saved me…” 

“Of course I did!” Shiva looked up and pressed a button on the grappling gun in his other hand. It began to rewind the cord back, pulling them up. “What was I supposed to do? Let you fall?”

That grouchy response was just so genuinely adorable. Heat crawled up to the top of Renzou’s cheeks. “Heh. I guess not... Thanks.” He leaned in to press a light kiss against the side of the mask before pulling back with an expression that was nothing short of delighted. “You make a pretty good knight in shining armor,” he told him, beaming.

Renzou’s smile only widened as he saw a hint of flushed skin peeking out from underneath the mask as Shiva’s frown deepened almost stubbornly. 

“I’m hardly a knight,” he said sullenly as he paused the wire’s retraction once they were in front of Renzou’s window. “So what happened? Don’t tell me you did that on purpose.”

“I didn’t!” Suddenly remembering the spider that had been the cause of all this drew Renzou's attention away from his beloved. He began peering around his windowsill anxiously, growing tense. What if there were more? 

“What is it?” Shiva’s tone turned serious, sensing his distress. “Is someone in the apartment?”

"Ah, no." Renzou shook his head, but he was reluctant to say anything else. "I, uh, really did slip by accident," he mumbled. It was embarrassing to admit, all things considered. He was a world renown thief, and he'd nearly fallen to his death thanks to a mere insect. Talk about uncool. 

“Then what happened?” Shiva lifted him to place Renzou on the windowsill. 

Renzou carefully sat down on the edge, but his hand remained curled loosely around the front of Shiva's shirt. "It's nothin', really. Just me being careless, that's all."

"Are you sure?" Shiva remained concerned, and the weight of that attention made Renzou feel all sorts of special. 

"You really are a knight in shining armor," he said, trying to regain his composure, though his embarrassment was slowly fading as his heart swelled with warmth.

“I’m just doing my—” Shiva frowned. “I’m just doing what anyone else would do. I’m hardly anything special.”

Renzou laughed. "Excuse me?" He didn't miss the near slip of tongue, and it made him want to tease him a little. "You're rather famous around these parts, in case ya haven't noticed, Mr. Thief."

“Ah, so that’s it, is it?” Shiva replied with a challenging tone and a slight huff. “You’re a Yamantaka fan so you thought hanging out of the window was cool.”

"Oh? What gave me away?" Renzou couldn't help it. _That was rather careless of you, Darling._ "You're right, of course," he continued before the other grew too flustered. "But I have to say, these days, I've become a much bigger fan of you."

“What?” Shiva squinted. “You’re just saying that because I saved you.”

"Well, I did fall rather hard for ya just now," Renzou joked, grinning widely. "But I've been a big fan since your debut!" he insisted.

“A kiss and then a pick up line?” Shiva put his gloved hand over Renzou’s. It still felt warm despite the barrier between their skins. “You’re just trying to flatter me.”

“Is it working?”

“Get back inside your apartment and stop hanging out of windows.”

Renzou laughed again. "I can't promise you that! Then you'll steal away into the night, and I have so much to ask you!"

“Ask me? What in the world do you want to ask me?” The way Shiva looked shocked at the idea was just too charming.

"Well, to start with, what are you even doing here, Mr. Thief? Are you about to commit a crime? Or did you have your fill when you went and stole my heart?" 

“And why should I answer that?” Shiva replied pointedly. “I haven’t stolen it. You just seem intent on throwing it in my arms more than anything!”

"Hey, now. That's not true!" Well, maybe it was, but Renzou couldn't exactly admit it. "There's someone else I plan to give it away to, so I'll be needin’ it back, yanno." 

At this, Shiva’s irritation seemed to lessen somewhat. He stared at him, a bit of caution hidden away in the green of his eyes. “Someone else?”

"Yup!" Renzou's lips made a popping sound around the word. He tilted his head and stared at Shiva, eyes half-lidded and focused on his interest. "You jealous?"

“Why would I be jealous of you?!” Shiva snapped. “Is this how you usually repay the people who save you? Badger them with questions and be utterly irritating?”

"How cruel! You make me sound so ungrateful, but didn't I already repay ya, earlier?" Renzou brought two of his fingers up to his lips, a coy gesture, but one more meant to hide his smile. "You thief types sure are greedy. But I really can't afford to spare more than the one, yanno." 

“I’m not asking for another kiss! Stop putting words in my mouth!” Shiva huffed and changed the arm from which he was hanging. “Besides,” he muttered, glancing over his shoulder. It was in the direction of the building they had agreed to meet on. “I already have someone in mind. So just go back in your apartment, would you?”

 _Oh._ Renzou could have fallen out of the window again right then and there given how absolutely boneless he suddenly became. That fleeting glance, that hidden note of affection in his voice, the implication—no, the outright confirmation behind his words... 

"Are ya meetin’ with Yamantaka?"

“What an assumption,” Shiva scoffed, but from the light of his apartment, he could see the pink flush creeping down his neck. It made his heart sing. “You’ll just take whatever I say to the internet.”

“Not if you don’t want me to,” Renzou hastened to say, gravitating closer as if that would give credence to his words. “I can keep a secret. I swear it on my pride as your biggest fan! Come on. You can tell me."

“I’m not sure I can trust anyone who says they’re a fan of a thief,” Shiva muttered. “But I’ll make a deal. What I say doesn’t make it to the internet. In addition, you tell me about yours, then I’ll tell you about mine.”

“Deal!” There was no hesitation. Renzou’s heart rejoiced with excitement at the opportunity he had stumbled on. “Can I go first? Say, what do you like about Yamantaka? You do like him, right?”

“Before I answer,” Shiva changed the arm he was hanging from once again, “can you seriously go inside so I can sit on the windowsill?”

Ah. Renzou bit back a laugh. _Sorry, Darling. My bad._ "You should have said somethin’ earlier!" He hurriedly made his way back inside. Though as soon as his feet hit the ground, his gaze snapped back to his guest and he leaned out the window again. "Wait. You won't disappear on me, will ya?!"

Shiva lowered the hand that was approaching the window with a frustrated sort of look. “I will if you keep me waiting!” he snapped.

Renzou’s hands flew off the windowsill and remained on each side of his head in a surrendering, placating manner. “Sorry, sorry! It’s all yours!”

Shiva huffed before swinging forward and closing the gap between him and the window. It was moving to see him latch gracefully on the window frame. He’d seen some videos on Yamantaka on the move, but those were always shaky and blurry. Renzou wondered if he looked half as good as Shiva did then, perching on the windowsill of his apartment. The thief released the grappling gun and let it hang behind him before settling down and crossing one leg over the other. He gave his shoulder a brief rub before resting his chin in his hand.

“Yes, I’m meeting Yamantaka,” he finally responded. “And... I do like him, but it’s hard to say why.”

“I knew it!!” Renzou practically began to vibrate. He clasped his hands together in front of his chest, trying to contain the overwhelming bout of excitement coursing through. Shiva loved him. He really did. Hearing it made him feel as if he had been pierced by cupid's arrow, and he couldn't hold back the barrage of questions that began to spill from his lips. "What made ya fall for him? Is it serious? When are you guys making it official? Is this why you became a thief?"

“I don’t know!” Shiva snapped back, clearly embarrassed by the questions. “This wasn’t my intention to start off with and I’m still trying to get used to the idea myself. That’s all.” He averted his gaze, his lower lip slightly pouted. “I’m not even sure if we _should_ make it official. It’s too complicated for something like that. I have enough on my mind without having to worry about a secret masked relationship.”

A secret masked relationship... 

Renzou was brought back to earth by those words, and the memory of Konekomaru cautioning him to reconsider, the memory of his last meeting with Sei, surfaced in his mind.

_"I can't let myself fall any deeper for you, not like this. I mean... I don't even really know you."_

_"So, then—!"_

_"Don't. Please. It's... probably best if we don't. Safer for you. For both of us. Don't you think?"_

"But...!" Renzou protested, shaking his head as if to dislodge the feelings that rose with the memory. "If you love him, then isn't it worth the risk? Isn't it worth the complications?" he pressed.

“A relationship built on secrets is no relationship at all,” Shiva replied sternly, looking at Renzou in the eye. “What if there’s something about him that I can’t accept? Committing to a relationship without knowing who the other person is is just irresponsible! There are things about me that Yamantaka doesn’t know and I don’t know enough about Yamantaka. And I said I _like_ him. I don’t know if I love him.” He looked down, something complicated blossoming on the face he couldn’t see. “I can’t love a mask. That’s just asking for trouble.”

"Sounds to me like you're overthinking it," Renzou said a little petulantly. The speech lined up with Konekomaru’s view on the matter, but... "Trouble's par for the course for you guys, ain't it? And dating's all about gettin' to know each other, so get to know each other!" 

“And how, pray tell, do you get to know someone if their face is hidden by a mask, don’t even know their name, and half their life is a complete mystery to me as a result? There has to be a sense of openness to it, you know. Just because we want it doesn’t mean it’ll happen. Relationships need work.” Shiva shook his head then with a sigh. “Forget it. I answered your questions. I’m not going to waste my energy lecturing someone about love.”

"Love isn't all that complicated," Renzou insisted, his brow furrowed and tone earnest. "It sounds like you're givin' up on it before you've even given it a chance! Come on, is it really that scary to follow your heart? You're a thief, aren't you? If you're darin’ enough to put on that suit, then why’re you makin’ yourself hold back on somethin’ that you want?"

“I said forget it. You and I clearly have two different experiences when it comes to love.” Shiva frowned and returned Renzou’s impassioned gaze with a carefully guarded one. “Go on then. Fill your part of the deal. Tell me about yours.”

Renzou crossed his arms over his chest, unsatisfied with the conclusion of their conversation, but unsure of how to continue it. “You’re supposed to ask a question,” he pointed out.

Shiva sighed and leaned his shoulder against the window frame. “What do you like about them?”

Well, that was easy enough. "He's clever. Gorgeous. He's got a sharp tongue and these electric green eyes that I just want to lose myself in all day. Even his name is cute."

“Oh yeah?” Shiva crossed his arms. “What’s his name? Why is it cute?”

Renzou's lips twitched in amusement. _You haven't even asked for mine, yanno_ , he felt like pointing out. He let it go instead and skipped to answer the second question. "There's this sayin', yanno. That snowflakes are like kisses from heaven. I've been thinking about that a lot lately, ever since I met him," he said, unable to hold back his smile this time. "We haven't known each other that long, but I can tell already. He's as passionate as a stormy blizzard, a force to be reckoned with. But at the same time, someone that should be treasured, to keep him from melting away."

Shiva’s expression softened. The arms across his chest loosened as well. “You really do make it sound so easy,” he murmured quietly. He was silent for a moment before opening his mouth.

But before he could speak, there was a knock at the door. Renzou looked back as he heard Rin’s voice.

“Hey, Renzou, I’m here!” came his muffled call.

Renzou’s eyes widened. _Oh shit, already?_ “Be there in a sec!” he called back before he turned to the window. A gasp escaped him when he saw Shiva jumping out of it and grabbing the grappling gun he had left hanging. It was everything he could do to rush forward and grab his cape before he disappeared.

“Hey! Let go!” Shiva snapped, but he held on tighter. 

“Come visit me again!” Renzou breathed out in a rush, gripping on desperately to that white fabric. “Please!”

Shiva frowned, but the anger in his face melted away in an instant. He reached over and took Renzou’s hand and, under his warm touch, his fingers loosened almost unwillingly.

“No promises,” Shiva whispered before he kissed his knuckles, released him, and the grappling gun whisked him away to the roof. Renzou watched him go, feeling as if his breath had been knocked out of him. The sensation of the other’s kiss lingered on his skin, a warm, tingling touch that he wished more than anything could remain branded on his skin.

But it couldn't. Like the namesake of the one who had kissed him, the sensation would soon melt away into a memory to yearn after.

_You really are a proper thief, aren't you?_

A smile that he almost always reserved for when he was planning a heist blossomed on his lips. It was one filled with excitement, filled with anticipation. And this time, it was filled with love, too. 

_Luckily, so am I. So just you wait. I'll be the one to steal your heart, next time._


	11. You Were Good To Me

_ "We haven't known each other that long, but I can tell already. He's as passionate as a stormy blizzard, a force to be reckoned with. But at the same time, someone that should be treasured, to keep him from melting away." _

Yukio had been thinking about those words incessantly since the moment Renzou had spoken them in his little apartment. Those words had fallen so easily from his lips and fell into his heart like a heavy coal that smoldered a fire he just couldn’t put out. 

He’d run away almost immediately after that, the voice of his brother sparking an urgency in him, but he couldn’t help but repay just a little bit of the affection that Renzou had shown him.

Yukio had arrived at their meeting place first filled with thoughts of Renzou, of Yamantaka, and of her. 

_ “I’m sorry, Yuki-chan, but… I really think… I…” _

_ “No, it’s okay. You don’t need to say anymore.” _

_ “P-Please let me say it!” _

_ “I would rather you didn’t. I’ll help you pack your things.” _

That exchange from so many years ago kept playing in his mind. Over and over and over he remembered her face when he had so thoroughly silenced her, when he couldn’t bear to hear another word of his shortcomings coming from her mouth which used to only hold affection.

It had hurt him. It had wounded him. He thought he could never love again. 

And here he was now, stupidly caught between two people who wanted so desperately to treasure him. One man who owned the shadows, who loved to be the devil on his shoulder as he kissed his neck, who desired to possess him and hold him and cover him in jewels and hickeys. And another man who was just as passionate, just as desiring, but a little less exciting, a little more normal, and a little more safe. 

It was his door who he was standing in front of now. Though he knew what building Renzou lived in, he had to get the apartment number from his brother who was only too happy to give him the full address.

Renzou seemed like a good person, like a good man. He wanted him and he had assured him that being married to his work wouldn’t affect him. That was good, right? That was… good. 

He needed something to ground him, to put his feet back on the pavement and off the moonlit roofs of Tokyo.

Yukio loosened his tie and knocked on the door.

There was music coming from the other side of it, something soft but catchy. It muffled the footsteps approaching the door a bit, but not the gasp that Renzou let out when he was standing in front of it. He swung the door open within seconds, eyes wide, and his smile wider. 

“Yukio? What’re ya doin’ here?”

“I wanted some company and you were my first choice,” he admitted, not minding the usage of his first name for once. Yukio looked at him, absorbing the way his eyes lit up, his smile. Renzou was cute. He was attractive. Ideal. “Do you mind?”

“Mind? No, of course not! Please come in!” 

Renzou was all too pleased to guide him in, tugging him inside as if to keep him from changing his mind. 

“My place is a bit of a mess, but I hope ya won’t mind. Wasn’t exactly expectin’ company. But ya sure have great timing! Are you hungry?”

“It’s fine. I sort of invited myself over, after all.” Yukio lifted his hand in a placating manner. He glanced around the apartment. It was different, looking at it from the inside rather than from the window, but in this different point of view, Yukio found himself exhaling with relief. 

It was so… normal. Renzou was an artist—he knew that much from the napkin with his phone number on it—but it was even more apparent by the mess in his apartment. A couple canvases with half painted concepts leaned up against the wall on the far side of the living room. Some cups on the table were dirtied with multicolored paints with a few brushes drying on paper towels, recently cleaned. 

“I’m starving, actually,” Yukio said quietly and gave Renzou a polite smile. “I just came back from work, but I should have brought something. I’m sorry for being so rude like this.”

Renzou shook his head. “You did bring somethin’! You brought yourself. Couldn’t have asked for a better gift, so let me treat ya in return. Can I get you a drink while I put somethin’ together? Shouldn’t take me long,” he said earnestly. 

Ah. He couldn’t help himself. How starved was he for something normal? For affection in a well lit room? For dinner and a warm body in a bed rather than an open roof? He had never really thought about relationships after her, his mind dedicated to his work, but now that he had someone desiring him so intently, he felt drawn to him, helplessly. Like it was something he’d been missing. But the devil on his shoulder was hardly worth entertaining. This is what he should want. Someone normal like this. Yukio leaned forward, squeezing Renzou’s hand as he kissed his cheek. 

“That would be nice.” Yukio remained in his space as he watched him. “Where do you want me?”

“Um.” Renzou seemed to short circuit. It was cute, the way his cheeks heated up, the way his surprise melted away as delight and desire filled his eyes. “Is as close to me as possible an acceptable answer?"

“It is. I said I wanted company, after all.” Yukio’s fingers found their way to Renzou’s hair where a light touch to the pink fringe had the man leaning in as if he was just as starved as he was.

"I'm contemplating takeout now," Renzou admitted as he rested a hand on Yukio's hip with a familiarity that reminded him of... another man. He ignored that feeling, focusing on the one in front of him. "But I can't resist the urge to impress you, so we're gonna both have to be a little patient. Think you can manage?"

“I think so.” Yukio slipped his tie off the rest of the way and put it around Renzou’s neck. “We have all night.”

Renzou shivered lightly. His eyes darkened like chocolate held over a bonfire. "You are so very, very tempting, gorgeous. But I think we'll enjoy ourselves more with some food in our stomachs, hmm?" The yearning in Renzou's eyes when he stepped away from him was flattering and electrifying. Yukio loosened his grip on one end of his tie and allowed it to slip from Renzou's shoulder as he watched him go. Heat surged in his stomach when Renzou grabbed the falling end of the tie and tugged him to follow along.

"Wine? I have beer in the fridge too if you'd rather."

“Beer,” he responded almost immediately. The taste of wine was too fine, too rich for what he wanted right now. Yukio looked around the small kitchen when they entered. “So, how are you going to impress me, then?” he prompted, wanting to elicit more reactions from the man as he twisted the tie around his hand to shorten the distance between them.

"Well, I hope my taste in beer is a good start." Renzou flashed him a warm smile over his shoulder, and then ushered him into a chair. "It's imported, has a bit of a bitter sting, but the nutty aftertaste makes up for it, I promise." After tugging Yukio's tie out of its owner's grip, Renzou looped it back over his own neck. It looked a little silly over the blue T-shirt he was wearing, but he tied it on fast and loosely, pressing his hand over the knot when he was done. 

_ As close as possible _ , his eyes seemed to read as he held Yukio's gaze before turning away towards his fridge. 

“Here.” 

The beer bottles clinked against each other as Renzou brought them over with their lids popped off.

Yukio took his bottle and grabbed the tie, not letting Renzou take a step back as he took a sip from the alcohol. He tracked the man’s gaze. Renzou’s eyes were watching him appreciatively and he could feel his own anticipation echoed in Renzou’s stare. After he swallowed, he tugged him down and Yukio pressed a light kiss to the corner of his lips. Not quite mouth to mouth, but close enough to make Renzou’s breath hitch.

It was easy to focus on Renzou now. With Yamantaka, he always felt like he was swept away by him, by the moment. With Renzou, he felt in control, like the man was allowing him to dictate the speed and pace. Yukio’s fingers released the tie, trailed down his chest in a light touch, before he finally pulled his hand back. 

“What sort of things can you cook, Renzou?” he asked, using the man’s name for the first time as he took another sip of the well crafted beer.

"Ah." Renzou licked his lips as if trying to chase the phantom taste that he hadn't quite had the chance to savor yet. A sip of his beer seemed to bring him back to earth, though his gaze lingered on Yukio for a little more before he returned to the fridge. "I like to keep it simple. I get a little too deep into my work sometimes, so it tends to be easier to order in than be scramblin’ around, lookin’ for what ingredients to put together," he explained. "But I have been tryin’ a couple of new things recently. How do ya feel about salmon?"

“I like salmon,” Yukio replied with a soft, polite smile. “Do you make your living off your art? Suguro mentioned you paint and, well,” he glanced around, “I can see that he’s right.”

"Well, I have a pretty decent following online, so commissions from them keep me busy. But I also take a couple of odd jobs here and there from time to time." Renzou began taking out an assortment of items from his fridge and pantry. Garlic, lemons, soy sauce and honey were set down next to the fish. A frying pan and a cutting board were placed on the stove and counter respectively. He was quick and efficient with his movements, not in a way that seemed rushed, but one that spoke of experience. "So what's your usual dinner lookin’ like these days? I'm curious to know what I'm competing against," he said as he poured a couple of servings of rice in the rice cooker.

“You’re not competing against much.” Yukio watched Renzou work around his kitchen with some interest. “Besides when Nii-san comes over to give me food, it’s just the basics or take out. I don’t really have the time or energy to cook and I was never really good at it anyway.”

"Now time and energy, I get. But you seem like the type of guy that's good at anythin’ you put your mind to. Bad experience?" He glanced over his shoulder and smiled when he noticed Yukio was still watching him. 

“Hm.” Yukio frowned slightly. “I guess. I sliced my finger on a knife as a child and since my brother was such a good cook, I never bothered to learn after that. It’s nothing special.”

“Sounds like you’re just in the need of a good experience then. Maybe the next time you come over?” 

“Do I take it that you’re offering?” Yukio took another sip from his beer. “What kind of good experience do you have in mind?”

Renzou finished pouring the soy sauce and honey into a small bowl before turning to face Yukio fully. “I can give you a preview now. If you’re interested. What do you say?” he offered as he leaned back against the counter. 

Yukio gave Renzou a look of consideration. Part of him wanted to drag this out, to deny him and see how long he could tease him for. Another part of him wanted to indulge. He thought about it for all of a few seconds before he decided that he’d come there to indulge anyway. So he took a deep drink of his beer and put it down on the table. 

“I’m interested.” Yukio stood up and crossed the distance between them. He placed his hand on the counter close to him, so his wrist was touching Renzou’s side. “Impress me.”

"Anything for you, gorgeous." Renzou's hand returned back to Yukio's hip, and it was with a soft touch that he guided him to stand in front of the cutting board. He placed a couple of garlic gloves, washed and peeled, on the bamboo surface and retrieved a knife for them to use. "Don't worry,” he whispered playfully. “I'll be very careful and make sure your skin remains wound free this time," he said as he settled in behind Yukio, who felt himself relax at the feeling of Renzou’s body against him.

This was right, he thought then. This was normal. This was what normal couples did. They didn’t do heists, they didn’t hide behind masks, and they didn’t get swept away at the lightest rush of adrenaline. As Yukio grabbed the knife and Renzou guided his hands, he felt… so terribly normal. 

His focus was moved from Renzou and to the cutting board where he taught him how to properly chop the garlic with light nudging touches. It made him remember the presses of Yamantaka’s fingers and nudges of his hips when they danced that first time and he led him through the tango. The breath at his neck as he leaned over his shoulder hardly felt like Renzou at all. 

Yukio dropped the knife, turned around, grabbed Renzou’s face, and kissed him.

The gasp that whispered against his lips only made Yukio's fingers dig deeper into his cheeks, and the rough touch prompted Renzou to move past his shock. When he kissed Yukio back, it was with fervor, with an all-consuming zeal. He pulled him close, with one hand pressed firmly against the center of his back, while the other came to rest on his neck, his fingers digging in with strength. It was an enveloping hold, a grounding one, a covetous one. As if he sensed that a softer touch might allow Yukio to melt away after all. 

When he closed his eyes, it felt the same.

Yukio pulled away and stared at Renzou, his breath quickened by heated desire as he got swept away by just one moment, one memory. 

“Sorry,” he whispered, releasing Renzou and placing his hands at the edge of the counter as he averted his gaze. “I got… carried away.” His confidence was rapidly draining.

Renzou's hand slid to cup the side of his cheek. The touch was searing but undemanding. "I can't say I mind," the pink-haired man told him. "But if you're gonna be this distractin', we're not gonna eat any time soon," he chuckled.

Yukio put his hand on Renzou’s and turned his face into his palm. He stared off in the distance, trying to reorient himself. Why was he thinking of Yamantaka so much? He was clearly obsessed. And if so, was this really okay? Was being in Renzou’s apartment, using him as a distraction from another man, okay?

“Perhaps I should sit down, then,” he murmured against his skin as guilt began to curl in his stomach.

“I can already see that our future cooking lessons might prove challengin’,” Renzou joked, oblivious to his plight, and though there was some reluctance to his movements, he stepped back and allowed Yukio some breathing room. “You can stay, but I’m gonna have to enforce that you keep your hands to yourself. For now.” He winked. “Think you can manage?”

“No, I think I’m going to sit down,” Yukio responded before putting a small smile on his lips as best as he could muster. “It’s probably better if I watch. I’ll let you work.” He slipped away from him and returned to the table, immediately grabbing the beer and taking a swig. 

Even the beer was too complicated. Too expensive. What he wouldn’t give for the grounding taste of shitty, cheap beer. Yukio grit his teeth.

He liked Renzou. He really did. There was something about him that was charming and sweet, not to mention he was attractive. Despite his overzealous passions, he was magnetic in his own right. But he couldn’t stop thinking about Yamantaka and comparing him to Renzou. That wasn’t right.

“On second thought,” he murmured. “Maybe I should go. I’ve been terribly rude.”

Renzou hardly had the time to resume cutting the last bit of garlic that remained when the words brought him to a halt. He dropped the knife with a clatter and whipped around. “Wait, what? That was—hardly what I could call rude!” He stared at Yukio with confusion, clearly trying to puzzle out what had caused such a drastic change of mood.

“Did I do somethin’?” he asked, unsure.

“No!” Yukio turned to him at once, holding out a placating hand. “God, no you didn’t do anything. It’s all me. I came here with an ulterior motive. I shouldn’t be treating you this way.” He frowned, curling back into himself again. “I’m sorry for all this. I like you. I just don’t think I’m in the right frame of mind at the moment.”

Renzou opened his mouth and closed it again. He started at Yukio with a furrowed brow, the wrinkles on his forehead protruding visibly. “I’m really not offended in any way. Regardless of your motives, I’m happy to have you here,” he assured him in a heartfelt tone. Softer, he said, “don’t go, okay? Not until I fed you at least?” He looked very tempted to cross the distance between them, but afraid of what reaction might await him if he did, so he continued speaking from right here he was, leaning against the counter, his hands gripping the edge of it for support.

“You’re already here, and I really will be quick,” he insisted, “and... I’d really like it if you stayed. Just for dinner. It doesn’t have to be anythin’ other than that.”

“You…” Yukio looked at him for a moment before he slowly lowered himself down in the chair again. “You’re being too kind. Much kinder than I deserve right now, but thank you.”

Renzou looked like he disagreed given the frown on his face. Worse, he looked like wanted to press further, but he didn’t, and Yukio was silently grateful for it. There were very few words exchanged between them as Renzou resumed cooking then. Yukio tried to collect himself as he watched the other finish mixing the sauce he had been preparing before moving on to sautéing the fish. The speed in which he moved around the kitchen seemed to pick up in pace. Periodically, he glanced back at Yukio discreetly. If Yukio hadn’t been feeling self-conscious, he probably wouldn’t have noticed. 

_ "Wait. You won't disappear on me, will ya?!" _

The memory of his almost desperate plea when he had visited him as Shiva hadn’t meant much to him at the time. He had responded, more out of pained frustration than any genuine anger, but now, sitting in his kitchen, Yukio couldn’t help but be keenly aware of that familiar paranoia. 

It was why he had never dated again. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried. He had, at Shura’s behest. His depression had lasted for months and Shura was certain that another woman or man in his life was what he needed. But every time he’d gone to work, a paranoia had gripped him.

Would his relationship still be there after his shift?

In the end, he’d broken it off in less than a week and chose his sleep over his love life.

_ Maybe I should go after all… _ he thought, frowning down at his beer. 

Before he could make up his mind, however, the  _ ding  _ of the rice cooker went off, and then Renzou was sliding a plate in front of him. The scent of the glazed salmon curled up welcoming in the air, easing away some of the greyness that had begun to settle in his mind.

“Still hungry, I hope?” Renzou asked, flashing him a small, cautious smile. 

Yukio’s stomach growled, enthusiastically agreeing before he could even think about it.

“Thank you,” he responded quietly, turning his chair to face the table. He pulled out the chair beside him and Renzou’s smile widened at the silent invitation before he went to go grab his own plate. 

Yukio took the first bite and the salmon itself was so good, it made him pause. The sweetness and savoriness mixed in perfectly to the point where it actually lifted his spirits somewhat. 

“You could give Nii-san a run for his money,” he said as Renzou returned to the table with his own plate. 

“What? No way!” Renzou laughed, waving him off, while just the same looking incredibly pleased by the compliment. “Rin’s the master, and I, a mere humble student. Koneko and I have been asking him for tips lately. But I don’t think we'll be reaching his level any time soon.” 

“It’s not like he has any special powers,” Yukio replied with a wry smile. “He just practiced a lot. I think you’re better than you give yourself credit for.” He turned back to his food. “But, well, far be it from me to ruin Nii-san’s illusion of superiority.”

“Hmm, well I suppose if we keep it a secret between us, he won’t know any better right?” Renzou said with an impish grin. “I’m pretty sure if anyone’s gotta be a judge, you’d be the best fit. So I’ll have to trust ya.”

And it was almost magical how easily the tension dissipated, just like that. 

Yukio smiled softly at Renzou, watching him take his first bite. The way those warm eyes lit up with pleasure made his gaze linger. “Perhaps if I tell him, he’ll be motivated to improve further,” he teased. “Then he’ll truly be unreachable by mortal hands.”

Renzou laughed. “Oh man, will my stomach be ready for that? The first bite might send me straight to heaven!”

He couldn’t help it. Yukio laughed. It was small, quiet, and brief, but it was cathartic. It made smiling easy. Renzou made smiling easy.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

Renzou glanced over to him. He studied Yukio's face for a moment, and the smile on his face remained just as genuine, but it seemed to relax further. "Nothing's better than good company to end the day with," he told him. "Thanks for stoppin' by."

Yukio tensed for a moment as he felt something against his leg, then relaxed as he realized what it was. Renzou had hooked their ankles together. It was a soft touch, but intimate. Yukio was conflicted for a moment before he nudged his foot closer, letting their legs rest between them, still hooked together. 

“I promise I’ll call ahead and ask next time.” 

"You're always welcome here," Renzou countered. 

They shared a smile. 

"But it would be nice to get your number on my phone," he continued. "In case of emergencies, yanno?"

"Don't you have Suguro's?" Yukio pointed out, amused.

"Yes, but he's not nearly as cute as you. If I'm in trouble, someone easy on the eyes is more likely to soothe my poor, fragile heart, don't ya think?"

“Point taken,” Yukio responded, laughing lightly under his breath. He pulled a pen from his shirt pocket and grabbed a napkin. He wrote down his number and slid it over to Renzou. “No flowers on this one, I’m afraid.”

"Isn't there?" Renzou captured Yukio's hand before he could pull it back and brushed his lips against it. "It looks like I picked up the best one," he said with a teasing grin.

Yukio’s cheeks flushed pleasantly warm. “Perhaps the wine was the better option if you’re offering up this much cheese.” He smirked.

"Hah! It's not too late," Renzou said, giving his fingers a light squeeze as his grin widened from cheek to cheek. "I've got plenty of both on hand, and they're too Gouda not to share."

Yukio giggled, squeezing Renzou’s hand. “Oh, don’t keep going with that, Brie-fore I… I don’t know how to finish it, oh God,” he laughed through his words. 

Renzou snickered alongside him. "Don't worry. This is a no judgement zone. You could even call it a Gruyere area. I Camembert the last time I had to come up with this much cheese to dish out, but for you, I'll do my very best."

“Stop it!” Yukio laughed harder, harder than he’d ever laughed in years. 

Perhaps it was the alcohol. Perhaps it was the good food and even better company. Maybe it was just the awful puns or a combination of all the above, but the doubts in his heart didn't seem to weigh so heavily anymore.


End file.
